The Blueman
by Proman1398
Summary: What kind of trouble could someone with the powers of Superman get into on the streets of MCU'S New York City? Mafia run-ins, Evil Billionaires, and terrible decisions will decide the fate for this future Man of Steel. (SI. Slight AU MCU)abandoned!
1. Big City Arrival

**Author's Note: Welcome to the world of tomorrow.**

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I was having a terrifying time, just after finishing studying for my Leaving Cert exams that were coming up at the end of the month, when suddenly I had strangely found myself laying down on some blankets in an alley, it looked like I was in a city now, not my small town where I had lived my whole life, one that was foreign and cold to me, which given the number of cities I have been in my life, said absolutely nothing because I have only been in one before this.

I found myself in an alley that was covered in grime, and what looked like abandoned cardboard homes. My fascination with my new surroundings ended when a snicker wrapper slapped me in the face. There was a man beside me chuckling away with all the noise of a blowhorn.

"What's such a clean young man doing in the dirty alleys of this city?"

I threw the wrapper into my pockets, compulsion taking over me for the moment as I attempted to calm down my breathing. Soon I started to shake from anxiety, my leg twitched up and down at an accelerated pace.

The man I had assumed was beside me took hold of my shoulder and sat down next to me. He was telling me to breathe, take deep breaths, all I had to do was calm down and everything was going to be alright.

"You okay now, kid," the man told me, in measured even tones, as if not to frighten me.

"Yeah." I took in some shallow breaths. "It was just anxiety."

"You have a lot of anxiety attacks?"

"Just in unfamiliar places," I stood up to take another look at my surroundings. There were no lights in this alley, the only light source came from the street just a small walk down. The buildings beside me were made from a reddish brown brick and the cars that could be seen. "I don't recognize where I am."

"How you get here then?" he asked me in a soft tone of voice.

"Don't know," I slammed my hands together, stringing them into weird forms and figures in an attempt to stop any more anxiety from popping up. I sat back down with the man. "Where am I?"

"In the grime of New York City," I finally took a look at the man, he was a black man, wearing a plaid shirt with a matching tie and brownish jacket. "What's your name? mine's Ben"

"Peter"

"Where you from?"

"Ireland"

"I thought I could hear the accent," He stood up next to me. "You Irish have a unique way of talking," I could see that he was looking me up and down as he took out a phone. "You been in America for long?"

"I don't remember getting here," I told him, my voice quieting down with each syllable.

"Don't worry about it," He started tapping phone's screen "I'll just call the cops, they can get you the help you need to get home"

"What's the date?" I asked him as I took a look around the area, noticing the frost that was setting in. The last thing I remembered it was summer unless climate change is worse than I thought it shouldn't be cold enough at that time of year. "Last time I checked it was summer"

"Summer?" Ben's face went noticeably paler. He licked his lips. "What was the year?"

"2012?"

He looked at me with even more concern than before, taking the phone from his ear and looked at me, scratching the back of his head. Ben looked me straight in the eye as if trying to ensure me that he was about to tell the truth.

"It's December 2014" His hand ran through his scalp. "This is bad," He put his phone to his ear again.

"Drop the phone" I heard a voice from behind say in a low growl. I turned quickly only to find a dark hooded figure with the glint of silver in his right hand. Ben looked to me and then to the newcomer, after gently lowering his phone to the ground the man with what I assumed was a gun pointed to it and waved to himself. Ben took this to mean kick the phone over so he did.

"Now empty your pockets" Ben did as the armed man said but it wasn't enough, the man then noticed that I wasn't doing the same. "You too, ya skinny fuck!"

I jumped, ramming my hands into my jeans pockets only to find that all I had was lint. Since I didn't want to be shot, I put my pockets inside out. Hoping that it would be enough.

"What man, you stick your wallet in your shoes?" He pointed down at my feet. What the hell is wrong with this guy, who would even keep their wallet in their shoes. I would be uncomfortable as hell with something that big in my shoe.

"I ain't got anything in there"

"Take them off!" The man was screaming at me now, shaking the gun up and down he walked forward towards me with menace in his steps. "NOW!"

"No," I told him, my frustration with my newly found situation was something that I feeling through my bones. I shook from both that and terror at the obviously vicious man in front of me treating my life. I was not going to take my shoes off, that was stupid as hell. "Are you thick as your ugly," I told him, shaking my foot up and down to showcase the lack of money in there. "See nothing there"

"Smart fucker aren't you," He told lowering his gun. The mugger then looked to Ben's wallet on the floor, when he quickly reaching down to grab it with his other hand back up pointing at me, I knew that I didn't have a chance of getting that gun away from him but I had to do something.

"Bet you won't be so smart with your brains on the outside," With that, it was if his next move was in slow motion. The gun's muzzle flash in such a way that it appeared more like a flashlight than a firearm. The bullet appeared out of the flash like a slideshow, this I thought must have been what people might that time slows down when you die.

Slowly the bullet came at my head, I feel the heat from as it started to rise towards my forehead, homing in on what I considered my best feature. My eyes closed in waiting for the impact, and the resulting bang thundered my ears, causing me to sway slightly.

"Hey are you okay," Ben's voice came through the thunder, as he held my shoulder to stop me from swaying. "Peter, everything's going to be okay"

"Yeah," I told him in a haze, my eyes were still shut. "He must have shot right past my ear"

"Peter, open your eyes"

"What?"

"Just do it!"

I open them like I was instructed, only to find that my assailant was knocked on his back to the floor. His hand was a gory mess, covered in red with the only remaining digits being the pinkie and his thumb.

"Oh god," I covered my mouth, hoping to keep whatever puke that would come up down. "What happened"

Ben stood looking at me as if trying to deceiver some secret. He shifted his standing position to look closer to at my forehead, he rapidly peered down at the mess of a hand the man below had now. Ben sighed loudly picking up his discarded Phone from earlier.

"I think...," He licked his lips and sweat started to pour from his skin, as if strangely scared of what he found out about me. "I think that the bullet bounced off you and back to the gun"

"What?!" I yelled kneeling down and rubbing my forehead while peered down to look for the attackers gun. Not finding it, the blood oozing out of wound started to worry me. There was no way that this man would survive this injury if he didn't get any help soon. "Call an ambulance?"

"What?"

"Get help, I don't think this guy will make it," I took off my light jumper, wrapping around the wound hoping to pressure it. "Hurry!"

"Right," And with he quickly got to work ring the emergency services for both the police and the Ambulance. If I was lucky then this poor man would at least survive the night. When Ben was finished then he bent down to take over for me.

"You know," He spoke up after a few seconds of our injured attacker's groaning. "Not many people would be worried about their mugger's life?"

"I…" I stumbled out with all the grace of infant speaking their first full sentence. "I can't just let him die, not when I could do something," I scratched the back of my head, digging into the skin there. "I don't think that I could live with myself if I just let someone die"

Ben nodded, no doubt trying to showcase his understanding. He turned his head to me at that point. His brown eyes gave off the look that he was thinking about what to say next with the greatest of care. "Get out of here"

"Why?" I asked him. I didn't leave the poor man to explain what I didn't even understand, never not knowing anything about the city I had found myself in. I wouldn't even know where to go for some shelter.

"Listen, you're a foreigner, with no documentation, absolutely no idea how you got here," He took a breath. "And you're enhanced, with the way things are right now, you're better off running," With a free hand he reached into his wallet and threw to me a wad of bills and a business card. "Head to this address, ask people for directions if you have to, I don't expect anyone to be able to give you trouble, wait outside for me and I will meet you there when I am done with this"

"Right," I nodded panic raising at the thought of entering New York late at night by myself. It was properly not a rational fear when I just deflected a bullet with my head, but I could never overcome the fear that I felt in unfamiliar places.

I ran out of that alley like the devil himself was there, boosting down the path with unmatched speed. At least unmatched by anything that just had legs. Never before had I experienced such a feeling before now. Never mind slow motion, the world went past me as if it was moving and not I.

Cars leisurely driving to the destination were out ran with little fan fair, I leapt across entire roads instead of waiting for a crossing light, I could tell you if people could make out what I was as I blurred past their vision. I felt as light air, but as solid as steel.

I thought reached me then, it should have the first thing I decided on. But my nerves caused me to run when I hadn't needed to, where was I going? I stopped, dusting the streets with all the dirt that my wind trail had gathered. The coats of the few people on this street late at night blew up. I looked down, staring at the card given to me by the kindly Ben.

It read Ben Urich, Reporter, New York Bulletin, then listed off an address that no doubt was either the Bulletin itself or the perhaps the man's apartment. I wasn't sure how it worked, I had designed cards during courses but I was unsure whether Ben worked from home and therefore had his personal address or worked at the office which would mean that this was the Bulletin's written on the card.

It didn't matter either way I suppose, we going to meet at this address. If it is his workplace then I will just wait for him out of sight. If it is his apartment building then I will wait by the front door. After all with what I was just doing, it's not like I can be forced to move by anyone. I walked around a corner. Gulped down my nerves and went over to the elderly couple.

"Hello," I greeted them as kindly as possible, but nerves were showing through because I tell that my right leg was shaking like tickle me, Elmo. "I-I'm sorry to bother, Mister and Mrs, but I am afraid that I am new to the city and have lost my way"

"That's too bad!" The old man yelled, shaking his fist as if to match my leg. "Go back to your own county then"

"Oh," The elderly lady sighed. "Herald, don't be rude, the boy only wants directions" She gave out to what I can presume to be her husband.

"That's the issue with the youngins today, Janet, all they want is directions," Herald tiraded at the two of us, much to my confusion. What had brought this on? "In my day, we knew what we wanted and went for it"

"Sorry about him, dear," Janet told me, leaning over to project her voice over Herald's own. "Do you have an address"

"Yes miss," I handed her the card Ben gave me.

"That's about two blocks down that way," She pointed behind the two of them, which was the direction I was already heading in. "Just head straight down that street, the building has a sign that says its name, it's massive, can't miss it"

"Thank you," I told her honestly relieved at the quickness that she had for speech, it meant that I wouldn't have to listen to her husband too long. "It's nice meeting the two of you, goodbye"

"Goodbye." The two told me as I briskly walked off at the pace that matched the greatest power walkers. I didn't really understand how far two blocks were, but with my new found fitness I imagine that it at least won't take much off me physically to do.

I took this moment to check on my body. No doubt in mind that the increase to my muscle to cause bullets to deflect would mean big gains. I look down on my bare arms, expecting to see said gains. I found my old sticks. It was then the mugger's words came back to me.

"Ya skinny fuck"

At least no one would expect someone as skinny as me to be a Luke Cage. This invulnerability would be very useful for my nerves while dealing with tough looking guys.

My running speed though, my speed was nothing short of tremendous, I had no doubt that I was the fastest man on earth right now. I couldn't help but wonder what level of strength in my arms had if that was what my legs could do.

There was now an confidence to my stride that I never had before, I started to imagine what I would now achieve. Perhaps enter the movie world at the stunt level, with the level of durability I would never need to worry about injuries ending my career. Big money, little risk.

I can't imagine what everyone back home will think. It's 2014 now, I'm in New York, does anyone know that I'm here. I can't understand how I missed two years of my life. Graduating from secondary school, my first drink, well legal drink. The College opportunities I missed. It was then that I made my biggest discovery of the night. Not another new found Super Power like flight, no instead what I saw was a TV inside a bar. On that TV was footage of Tom Hiddleston as Loki.

Not what I expected on in a bar, but soon that footage got weirder. It turned into a news report, reporters talked on screen about reconstruction that was being done. To repair the damage done in that attack on the city. I was so engrossed in what was on the screen that I didn't notice someone walking up to me.

"Hey," I jumped slightly in fright from the voice behind. It was a young woman about the age I am now. She was a blonde, in a silverish top and pants. "What are doing outside the bar," Her voice was light, displaying the humorous tone she was going for. "If you want a drink, you need to go inside"

"Right." I chuckled nervously, then leaning against the wall. "I can't," I shook my head, my uncut hair shifting left to right. "I'm meeting someone else further down the street, it's just the tv caught my attention"

"Oh," She winced. "Yeah, the loss of life there was awful," Her head bowed down. "It's so depressing" There was something about her tone in that phrase, it was odd as if she was only paying lip service.

"You didn't know anyone who..."

"No," She denied. There was an awkward silence now, I should take this as my time to leave but before I could give me goodbye she spoke up again. "I'm Sam, by the way, Sam Swan,"

"It's Peter, it's a pleasure to met you but I do have to get going now," I started to turn around and leave but not without saying one last thing. "If you come here often then I am sure that we will run into each other"

"Looking forward to it!" She yelled at me walking down the street. The sad thing was, that was the best conversation I had since my ex-girlfriend broke up with me. Which would have been about two years ago now? Damn Memory, how dare it lose two years of my life, I should get a new one.

I settled into a brisk walk as the New Bulletin sign came into view. I decided the best place for me was the car parking lot, so I sat at the edge, on a bench under what would become that shade of a tree. I waited, and waited, and waited until my eyes began to droop. Soon my mind found the same feeling and drifted shut.

Next thing I knew, I was being pushed and pulled until I awoke once more. I was Ben, he had a more withdrawn look than even the last time I saw him in that alley. Sitting next to me on the bench, he folded his arms and sighed deeply.

"That man who tried to mug us," Ben shallowed. "His name was Tom Reynold," Wait he was named Tom, did he mean. "He died on the way to the hospital"

My chest restricted, it felt like my heart was in a vice. I could feel my stomach shoot up as if it was in my throat. My left hand squeezed the corresponding arm of the bench. Its cheap construction started to show as the arm became thinner, as it screeched under the force I was putting it through.

"Hey," Ben stood back from me, waving his hands in a placating manner. "Breath, it's not your fault," He told me. "He was the one to shot you, not the other way around," I took deep breaths and loosened my hold on the bench's arm. "You did nothing wrong"

Ben stood up then and took me by the arm, he started me into the building with a gentle pace, perhaps trying not to upset me further than I already was.

"I spend a lot of late nights here," He told me as if to explain why it isn't odd for him to have someone in the office this late. "No one will question me bringing in someone late for an interview"

"What interview?"

"The one we're going to say we're having"

"What." I let a confused noise at the end of that word. "What interview?"

"The one we are going to have right now," Ben explained gruffly. "Don't worry it will be completely off the books, it's just that I want to know everything"

"Know what?"

"Are you an alien?"

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 **Author's Note: This is an upload of a fic that I am working on over at Spacebattles, it was inspired by DesertChocolate's work that I read over the years, like Saiyan in Brockton, Adorable Murderbeasts and most recently Dial. But not just DC but also Fulcon** **and his Pyrocalsm story. I remember one of them mentioning that there weren't enough MCU fics on Spacebattle, so I tried my hand. I hope people enjoyed it.**


	2. Some Time for White Lies

**Author Note: This chapter hit me quicker than I thought it would, sadly no fight scenes in this chapter, it's all set up for the future. This mostly being posted unbeta'd because I have absolutely no patience, sorry for anyone who would have if I had waited for them.**

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"Are you an alien?" Ben asked me again leaning back in his chair. There was a calmness to his words, one that implied that he was trying to come to a decision about me. I wasn't really sure why he came to that conclusion. "Be honest, are you an alien, you know like Thor?"

"What?" I exclaimed, now I was really confused, was he talking about the Norse God, the Comic character or an actual alien that was named Thor. I doubt most of that, the likely thing is that Ben is a believer of the Alien God theory. At least if I hadn't seen an alien invasion on the TV prior to this. Was I in a Marvel universe. "I'm just as human as you are"

"Oh really, not a lot of humans that can do what I saw, that can have bullets bounce right off their head"

"I couldn't before" I nearly whined, I wasn't keeping any secret here. "I'm telling you the truth, I don't even know how I got here"

"Okay," He leaned forward, shifting his elbows onto the desk. "Who's the president?"

"I'm an Irish man from 2012, I didn't even get to see who won that year"

"Then who's your Prime Minister?"

"We don't have a Prime Minister, we have a Taoiseach," I scratched my head in thought. "It should still be Enda Kenny"

"Right," Ben licked his lips and swallowed visibly. "Okay you're just a small town kid from Ireland," His hands were now covering his eyes. "What do you know about the Sokovia Accords"

"The what?" It sounded like some sort of international ruling. Maybe over sort of terrorist or environmental disaster.

"That's right it would be been in your missing period" He nearly whispered. His body shifted as he waved me over to his side of the desk, to showcase what was on the PC monitor. What I saw looked like it was straight out of the movies but far more convincing. That guy who played the Human Torch was dressed as Captain America, he was fighting a far more popular marvel character Spiderman.

It was a well-paced fight, Captain Torch ended up trapped at once stage by Spiderman webbing attaching to each of his hands, Cap got out of this by doing a spin in the air, properly to create enough momentum to carry Spiderman towards him.

Eventually, the non-on-fire Captain stopped the fight by throwing his mighty shield at an airport walkway down on Spiderman, who carried on his shoulders with visible strain.

The video them shifted to what I would assume to be an earlier point of the fight, one where different heroes, some like Captain America and Iron Man I recognized but other not, were lining up into what appeared to opposite sides but then Ben paused the video at this point.

"Great video but I don't see any Accords anywhere on it," I spoke up stopping whatever he was going to say.

"That's because I haven't finished," Was Ben's quick response. "You see that fight was about several things, one of them being the Sokovia Accords," He tabbed over on his browser, bringing us to a governmental looking page. "It says here," His voice in an empty timbre. "That any enhanced individuals who use their powers to break the law (including those who take part in extralegal vigilante activities), or are otherwise deemed to be a threat to the safety of the general public, may be detained indefinitely without trial"

"What?" I exclaimed, there's already been a Super Human Registration Act and also a Super Hero Civil War here, this caused me to start rubbing my head as I soon began to pace in rhythm with my heartbeat. "How bad is this for me?"

"Pretty bad" Ben replied with a tone so dead that I thought my life would soon be over. Permanent government imprisonment.

That was just about the biggest fear that I had now, I mean if this was a Marvel world like it seemed to be that just made it worse. Can't trust the government in the real world then you differently can't trust them now. For all I knew, Norman Osborn is already President.

I could feel my heart race faster and faster, a pit formed in stomach swallowing away any hunger I had. I sat back down in a chair, Ben must have lead me into it while I was in my panicked state. Then I took in deep breaths, lowing my anxiety.

"Listen," The Reporter broke my thought process. "I have some connections," He revealed, whispering it as if someone else could overhear it. "They can get you some documentation"

"What?," I squeezed my own knee to help center myself on his words. "What do you get out of this, why would you help me"

"Look at me," I did so, finding his eyes staring at me with the intensity of man of the highest morals I'd met yet. "You're just a kid, in over his head." Ben placed his hand on my arm in an attempt to stop me from crushing my leg. "I think that you are a good person, in a bad spot"

"Yeah"

"Yeah," He shifted his arm away from mine. "So I am going to help you but no-one must know"

"Why?"

"Because what we are about to do will raise enough questions"

"Questions?" My shock seemed to have me metaphorically lose my head, I couldn't think of any questions that would arise with me going back home. Home, where the chance that a fool with a gun will kill themselves attacking me was so low that I had more of a chance of meeting Zeus.

"You could have been missing for years," That was pretty likely, in all honesty. I definitely had no powers the last time I remember. "Someone could have kidnapped you"

"Why, I'm not special." Ben gave me a look, displaying with was no doubt a look of disbelief. "Well, okay, I'm not normal anymore…"

"Exactly!" Ben pointed to the side, finger angling themselves towards the computer monitor. "Not anymore, and how did that happen?" I shrugged helplessly. "You don't know, it could be that you've escaped from a secret government super soldier project"

"This can't be real," I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose before opening my eyes again and leaning back in my chair.

"Hey, the Hulk proves that," What the hell, there's been a real Hulk. "the government has still been working on super soldier programs"

"But I'm not an American, why would they do this to me," I pointed to myself, as that would prove my point for me. "Why someone they actually have working for them"

"I didn't say that this was the government"

I let there be a silence in for a few seconds. I wasn't sure what the hell this new world I found myself in was even like. There were real Captain America, Spiderman and Hulks. What else could there, Cobra, Decepticons.

"I think it was Hydra," Ben sat back down on his chair. I was aghast, wasn't Hydra just Nazis with a different name. Didn't commit atrocities the like of only the vilest could commit. They were evil, with a capital E. If there were anything like their inspiration then they were all about that master race. Someone as strong as I am would fit right in with their beliefs. If it wasn't for my own conflicting beliefs.

"How bad would that be," I asked him

"Do you love your family"

"What does that have to do with it"

"Because if it is Hydra, then that is the first place they will be looking for you in," Then New York Bulletin reporter turned his head while at the same time shushing me.

"Ben," A new voice spoke up from behind me, causing me to jump slightly. "What is going on, I thought that you went home earlier," The newcomer was on the smaller side, with a pair of glasses, a mostly bald head and good beard. His dress sense was similar to Ben's but without the jacket.

"Mitchell, I was just talking to Pe…"

"Patrick," I lied interrupted him and giving Mitchell a false name, much to the confusion of Ben. "It's nice to meet you, sir"

"You too?," I could see confusion written on Mitchell's face about what I was doing here and who exactly was I.

"I've heard nothing but good things about you, sir."

"Really, what have you been talking about here?" There was suspicion on his face as he directed the question towards the sitting Ben.

"Well," Ben said slowly, as if he was coming up with the answer as he was going along, no doubt because he was. "You see...his Dad is an old friend of mine, and he asked me to see if I could get him a job"

"Really"

"Yes," Ben nodded at him, his confidence increasing as he went along with this lie. "But I didn't want to just give him a job, I'm interviewing him to see what skills he could bring to the table, see if I could fit him in here, and if not I would find someplace else for him"

"Okay," Mitchell seemed to come to a conclusion that we were telling the truth. He turned back to me. "What is your typing speed?" He asked me, peering over his glasses at me as he did.

"30 words per minute"

"How is your coffee?"

"It's Okay, depends on the brand"

Mitchell nodded at me, put a hand on his chin, turned to face Ben as he began to walk out of the room backward. Then just as he got out of sight.

"Okay, Ben if you vouch for him, then get his speed up to at least 35 words and he can start Monday, we needed a new secretary anyway"

"Thanks, a lot sir," I let out what I hoped was casual yell back to him.

"Oh, and Ben," Mitchell yelled back from outside Ben's office, he waited for Ben to nod. "You have to do all the paperwork for him yourself"

When he vanished beyond sight, there was a visible sigh between the two of us. I suddenly felt the tension that Mitchell brought into the room disappeared. We leaned back into our respective chairs. I could feel my head begin to pound as I the stress of the day began to creep through to my skull. I wonder if Ben felt the same.

"That was close," Ben loosened his tie as if he gasping for more air in his lungs. "Why did you give him a fake name"

"I panicked," I told him truthfully, wiping my brow in exhaustion. "I thought about them knowing who I am and thought a false name would work better"

"Well, you better keep that name as long as we're stuck together"

"What?" I questioned him, with what I hoped looked like confusion on my face.

"You sure do like that word," Ben chuckled quietly amused at what had been properly my most used word of the night. "It would be really suspicious to Mitch if you were to disappear now, but I'll make sure to get your documentation done tomorrow, all of it"

"Thank you," I stood up, extending my hands towards Ben, it wasn't a gesture I made often to people. I was mildly germaphobic, at least when it came to my hands anyway. I hated shaking other people's hands but I felt that what Ben was doing for me at least deserved the gesture all the same. "For everything Ben, you won't regret this"

"I better not," Ben stood up, then while walking to the door he waved me to start walking out with him. "I have a spare room in my apartment, you can sleep there until get on your feet"

With a further offer of thanks from me, we left the office and returned to the parking lot. We entered his car and I soon find myself examining the route that we were taken to his apartment, in case I needed to walk there in the future.

"What can you do?" He interrupted my inner route based thoughts. "Office wise I mean"

"You know, spreadsheets, most type of documents, databases, basically most standard office computer stuff"

"Ever thought of becoming a journalist"

"It was an option, I had available when I was about to leave secondary school," I felt solemn talking about this, about the opportunities I had lost with that time I didn't remember. It wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry," Ben stopped my mopping with this. "About what has happened to you" His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as if it was a physical example of his statement.

"It's not your fault," I strewed on this feeling, just for that moment. It was then I had a realisation. This might be one of the lowest points in my life. I was alone, away from all the familiar faces in my life, with only the kindness of strangers keeping me from melting down. But I still had hope, there was no way I could fall any further than I felt now, was there?

"You know what Ben," I said grabbing his attention. "Don't worry about me too much, you know why?"

"Oh, why is that?"

"Because," I turned to look at passing buildings we were driving by. "You see my Dad would tell me something whenever I fell down"

"What would he tell you"

"That there is nowhere but up from here"

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 **Author's Note: Shorter Chapter here, I wanted to get the set up done first, there also wasn't any room in the natural flow of the chapter to fit in a fight scene in this one. Though I was finished this chapter so much earlier than I expected that I hope that would help tide people over until the next update.**

 **There will be plenty of action though, in the next chapter, I plan on time skipping all the boring elements. I just wanted to showcase how he got his position will be in at for a good while. I didn't rush to the action without explaining how the character got into their positions. I think that the most interesting thing that the newly renamed Patrick will face here, at least in terms in of his future Super Hero career is DareDevil and the people like him.**

 **That man can be brutal, and that is because he can't afford to be otherwise, not like Patrick here, he has no match in the current criminal underworld of this city. That is not to say that he won't have problems but he can afford to be much gentler than Matt can be. I think it will be interesting to see him interact with those kinds of vigilantes.**

 **I also hope that I have had some improvement in terms of grammar, but I understand that I might have missed things due to my inability not to skim over everything I read. So I am sorry if I haven't improved at all. Feel free to point bad dialogue if you think you see it, I am never too sure how well anything I write works in that area.**


	3. Jim O's Modern Life

**Author note: Here we go, some action. Hope I did well.**

* * *

Jim O'Reilly was just a small-time member of the rather big Irish Mafia that was situated in Hell's Kitchen. He handled drop-offs, was in charge of ensuring that protection money was handed over, sometimes he guarded some of the rarer items, at least while they were being prepared for transport. At times, Jim may have sampled some of the consumables. But he kept his head down, there were no big risks for Jim, he had no interest in going up in the Family, content in the amount of income he could take home to his actual family. His position allowed him enough protection to ensure his little angel met with no harm from the local monsters but not enough that would make her target for the other Families to ransom.

He worked hard hours, they could range from anywhere from as earlier as 6 AM to as late as 6 AM. Jim wished he could spend more time with his daughter, but instead he spent his day's busting heads. Sometimes when he lost a fight, when he was too battered to be useful, they would allow him to head home earlier that night.

Those were the days for him, it didn't matter that he comes home covered in both his or other peoples blood, not for his daughter anyway. All that mattered to her is that she could show her Daddy her drawings. It made all the beating he gave and received worth it if he could give her a happy childhood. Tonight could turn out to be one of the early ones for him.

He wouldn't let himself be beaten up of course, no matter how much he loved spending time with his daughter he knew how upset it made his wife when came home so swollen his eyes wouldn't open. The plan tonight to hit up this local store, you see the owner had gotten brave, thought himself too big for this operation.

Mickey O'Hare didn't like that too much, felt like it disrespected the Boss, so he sent Jim and some of the boys to mess up the place a bit. Jim took comfort in the fact that the Boss didn't know about this shopkeep if he had Jim would be taking the man himself to the Boss for some lessons. Ain't nobody surviving any of the lessons the boss teaches.

The group Jim was leading to the shop were no-bodies, just fools even lower on the totem pole than himself. Two big newbies, they over six feet five inches tall, strong as oxen but couldn't throw a punch to save their lives. A bunch of idiots that were only in it for themselves, the types that Jim wouldn't trust to watch his cat, never mind his back, but a craftsman can only work with the tools he has. They were carrying, he himself had a sawn-off shotgun in his coat, but they were planning to just bust the place up a bit.

"Hey, you, baldy" Jim pointed at the one he found the most stupid looking. "Knock the down door," There was a big bang as bald Irish thug kicked the door down as hard as he could. The alarm started to blaring, giving out an whining noise that few could sleep though.

"Alright lads," He yelled over the alarms. "Get to work, I'll keep watch to warn ye when the pigs show up"

Jim was meant to go in with them, to look over the newbies as they worked. Make sure they matched the standard that the Irish were known for. But he was tired of the work, he'd seen enough of it. There were times when he thought of going legit, getting a real legal job, but then he would look at his bills, he would look at his girl. Jim couldn't stand the thought of not giving everything she deserved in life, which anything she wanted.

These thoughts were broken when he found the bald guy smashing through the shop window. Jim bent down to look at the downed man, was covered with his cuts, some of which had pieces of glass in them, no doubt from the window. The Bald newbie groaned in pain, his eyelids were closed as he was attempting to roll over but lacking the willpower to complete the action.

"Sorry," Jim heard some punk from yell back out to him. "I didn't mean to hit him so hard"

The longtime Irish Mafia member drug out his shotgun, then he cocked it. The gun made a satisfying click, the father strode around the glass, over the broken door and into the shop with a rage building inside of him that few people can muster in life. It came from his brief boxing days, it was what allowed him to be so brutal to people yet be so kind to his family and friends.

He entered the room, peering through the darkness like a tiger stalking their prey. His men didn't seem to have much of a chance to redecorate properly. The only difference to the room barring the door/window was a single broken table. It was then he stepped on something, or rather he stepped on someone. It was the other newbie.

"Get up you eejit!" Jim screamed at him, grabbing him by the shoulder and attempting to shove him to his feet. The result was the man awakening but sadly it ended with him back on the floor, except now screaming in pain. It was then Jim felt a shiver as looked at the shoulder of his fallen Mafia mate. It off center, as if someone had hit him so hard that the blow not only dislocated it but also knocked him out straight from the pain.

"Fuck!" The mobster swore, he searched the room. It was a big room and his other man was only just thrown out of the store, There was no backroom for the whoever took out his man, so he must still be in this dark room with him. He hadn't thought that the rumors were true. That there was some kind of new black masked vigilante in New York.

The Russians from what he know were the ones mainly dealing with this creep, he put a dent into their human trafficking ring recently. What was that freak doing here, stopping minor crimes, when he could be putting dents into real crimes. Where he could be stopping the real monsters from taking apart families. Well, the Russians were saying that this freak bled.

"Come you fecking coward," Jim let out a single shot into the ceiling, if he was going down, he'd make this thing bled. "Come out and fight me like a man"

The was a shadow, just at the edge of his vision, it was standing in the room. The figure was wearing what looked like sports gear with hood, it's the only color was black and the freak's eyes couldn't be seen in the darkness of the room. There was a slow strut as it mechanically came towards him.

Jim could feel the tension build in his arms. He imagined his daughter's crying face when she learned that her Daddy wasn't coming home, so he took a deep breath and let off a shot right for the Vigilante's chest.

Then nothing happened, the dark figure just kept walking forward. Did he miss? Jim had never missed before, not at these ranges. So he shot again, again and again, until the gun just clicked empty. The Mobster was in a panic now, he ran at the vigilante holding the gun as if it was a bat.

The gun was swung with all the force that he could muster, it was the hardest it had ever hit anything in his life. But like the bullets before even with the repeated action of smacking him across the face, nothing seemed to phase this freak of nature.

At the fifth swing, the gun was stopped, the vigilante held the other end in a vice. Jim tied, he gave everything he had to break the inhuman hold that the freak had but no amount of pulling and kicking helped. If anything the kicking hurt Jim more than helped.

That was when Jim heard the something that truly terrified him, terrified him in a way that only the Invasion Of New York could have. The gun started to crackle, snap and pop. The pieces just crumbled to the floor. Jim was left there staring at what had become the remains of the dream that he had for his daughter's future.

"FUCK!" The Irishman gathered up what was left of his rage and he threw himself. He threw himself right at the black figure, with his good leg he kneed in the balls, with fists he aimed for his ears. Every dirty trick he knew, everything he ever learned in fights, he used it all. This brutal combo ended with a fancy spinning kick to the right ear.

This landed Jim on the floor. His fists were busted open gushing on the floor, his legs were jelly, he wasn't able to stand. His breath was heavy, at least with this Jim knew that he had tried his hardest for his daughter. When she was told that Daddy was gone, at least she would know that he tried. He bled for her. With that, Jim O'Reilly closed what eyes on what would be his taste of life this side of the bars.

"That was something"

Said low voice above him.

* * *

(Earlier)

It had been a few months now since Ben had helped me out with a place to life and job. Things were better now, I got along well enough with most of the staff. Although I thought Mitchell's personal secretary, Caldwell, she seemed to resent how easy it was for me get this job. I suppose I understood that she did work for a position at one what I told is New York's best papers. I would be pissed if some nobody came and took a job that took me years to get too.

I thankfully didn't spend a lot of time with her. I was mostly a loose secretary, working for whoever needed help with basic tasks, which sometimes included going over typos on an article. Ben was the one who I spent the most time working for, it was also mostly just reading over his stuff for typing errors, managing the now required social media presence Ben was forced to have.

Sometimes when I was on a break, Ben would run ideas over me, ask me to attempt to write an article based on previous evidence and interviews he received over the years. Nothing current but I feel that he was trying to expand my skill portfolio. Ben seemed to get that even though I was happy where I was, I wanted to be more involved.

This eventually started a trend here, at least with the other reporters, where they would sometimes ask me to give an opinion on some of their softer topic articles. All of this help from the stuff, well with that it wasn't hard for me to build semi-decent investigative skills.

Ben also made sure to take me to a local junkyard. To see what the limits of my strength were. It was an illuminating experience, it seemed that each time we tested, we found that my limit increased. It was now somewhere around 100 tons.

We had more trouble testing my speed. There wasn't a place with enough space that Ben's low income can afford. So I looked for empty streets at night. We couldn't get an accurate reading but we estimated that it was over 100 MPH.

That brings brought me to tonight, because when I wasn't at the office mooching journalist lessons from my fellow employees, or at the junkyard testing my strength. I was in the city, listening in on some dirtier criminal dealings, hearing the rumors and paying a lot of attention to gossip. This allowed me to overhear the story of old shopkeep, down in Hell's Kitchen, while I was walking by some punks.

That old man called the name of Phillip Jackson, he was being brave, not letting the Irish Mafia push him around for protection money, but he was being a bit foolish not informing the cops of his situation or perhaps the cops were just that crooked down in the Kitchen. That would explain how some punks were comfortable just speaking about how tonight's the night that Jim and the boys were going to mess the place up as a warning.

Apparently, the person leading this group of thugs was the one named Jim, he was a brutal man, even these punks didn't want the man getting to the old fellow. Jim liked to break limbs, from what I could find out about the man, he had an unconfirmed count of 67 limbs that have been broken within the last two years.

That was what brought me to where I am now, the old man Philip's furniture store. I came in after taking an early day off work, for some reason Phillip worked latish hours for such a store, so it was about seven o'clock. when I entered the store. The poor fellow had awful eyesight because he didn't notice me there wearing a black sports suit with a hood and hiding under his counter. So closed up for the night, thinking that no one was left in the store.

The lights inside the store were now off, this darkness was an excellent test for a new power that had surfaced, thermal vision. with this new power of was now capable of seeing things in terms of their heat signature rather than using the standard method used by human eyes to see.

But that was what allowed me to make what I would be vigilante debut. I waited for a few hours under the desk, I eventually stood up and out from under the counter, due to being bored. So the act of pacing was undertaken, I left myself to just the backend of the shop. Then I heard tip of the accent from outside, an accent that only came from the Americanisation of generations of Irish immigrants. I could barely make out the noise from outside when a clear voice rang out.

"Hey, you, baldy," There was moment silence between that and the next sentence. "Knock the down door"

With my thermal vision activated, I could make out three blobs standing around outside that store door. This was them.

The was one bang, then the door fell, its hinges rolling across the store's floor. I stood still, hoping that they would not see me hiding in this corner. That was when like I predicted the alarm started to blare.

"Alright, lads," The man from before yelled over the alarms, the sound barely overcoming them. "Get to work, I'll keep watch to warn ye when the pigs show up"

The new light source allowed me to turn off the thermal vision and get a better visual on my soon to be opponents. It was just two thugs entered that entered the store. Both were massive, with at least five inches on me, one was dressed in a black suit but had a bald head, the other had a small bit of hair but a grey suit. The bald guy had a silver pipe in hand, the other fellow had what I presumed was an aluminum bat. The two weapons glistened in street light entering the broken store doorway.

With that I turned the thermal vision back on, to help keep track of singular fellow outside. Then I waited for the bald fellow to raise the pipe to strike a piece of furniture, to allow me to get a drop on them while they were distracted by their discussion of property. Sadly for that desk, I waited too long.

He shattered it in one strike. I blurred into action once his partner tried to mirror his success, intercepting the bat, it bounced off me, rolling onto the floor as the man who it belonged to shook from the feedback, his hand visibly a redder sheen in my thermal vision.

The bald one came for me with an overhead strike, there was a speed that you would not have expected from a man of his size, it was blazing even. But that level of speed was slow mo for me, I sidestepped his blow, its momentum carrying it to a new target. The other thug.

The thwack from it wasn't only winced producing but also knocked his fellow thug out. This was when I finally struck my first real blow. I attempted to give a what I thought was a light hit to the chest.

It was not a light hit, instead, it threw the man right through the store window, shattering into little pieces. That was a bad hit.

"Sorry,"I yelled out to the now two people outside the store. "I didn't mean to hit him so hard"

From the shape of the thermal image, I could barely make out the shotgun that the least thug took out of his coat. He came into the store, his thermals red hot with rage, the barrel of his gun scanned the room with precision. Thug stepped lightly along the floor of the store as if waiting for me to spring out. Then he stepped on the knocked out big fellow on the floor.

"Get up you eejit!" Shotgun thug yelled at the bigger fellow, grabbing him by the shoulder and throwing up. The outcome was as predictable as they come. The big guy's shoulder had snapped, so while the action woke him, it also caused him unbearable pain. "Fuck"

"Come you fecking coward," The only one standing let out a single shot into the ceiling as if I was hiding there. "Come out and fight me like a man"

His head looked at my general direction, no doubt his eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness. I decide to slowly make my move, the thug's gun shook in his hands, then he fired. It didn't really feel like anything, so I kept moving forward. He shot again, and again, each time the effect was the same. Nothing.

The man ran at me now, swing the gun with enough force to take down an elephant. He did over and over again until the fifth time when I decided to end it. Grabbing hold of it, I began to crush the gun under my strength. Leaving it in pieces on the floor.

Then things got interesting, he started to fight me with his fists, with his legs, and then he went for dirty tricks like groin shots. In the end, the man left himself a bloody mess, the durability of my body making hit he landed on me like hitting a cinder block.

"That was something," I said watching as this man fell unconscious under the weight of his injuries. I was impressed with the tenacity that this thug displayed. To fight on with even under those conditions was a testament to the power of that man's conviction.

In the edge of my hearing, I could the coming of sirens, that I believe was my sign to leave. I ran out of the store and leapt high into the distance, landing roughly on a nearby rooftop. A bit of inspiration hit, I took out a camera, ensuring to shots of the ruined store for a story idea for a small article in the Bulletin. Perhaps someone would run with the idea.

* * *

 **Author's Note: That was an experimental chapter for me, I wanted to showcase a criminal that couldn't be portrayed as wholly evil. He won't be a one-off character, he will show again later. Jim mightn't be a liked character by this thread, I hope he will be but I understand if he isn't. I have a big plan for him, character arcs with ups and downs, moral high ground and self-reflection. Though his questions will be raised, what are those questions? I'm not telling.**

 **A lot of accidental harm here, every single mob member here is going to the hospital, and then the Jail. How long will they be struck there, depends on what the minimum time for their crime. Breaking and Entering. But also something to consider is that they think he's DareDevil. What could this mean for our honest lawyer and his humble sidekick Matt?**

 **There has been a time skip undisclosed amount of time, for writing reasons I'm going to keep that close to my vest. I am not too sure about the overall quality of this chapter. I really liked the Jim portion but there is something about the Patrick side of the fight felt wrong, somehow, I don't know I think that I will go back to fix later, maybe I am just being too critical of myself.**


	4. Surprise!

**Author's Note: Surprise Update, Once Again UnBeta'd but I feel like I have been improving, this chapter is shorter than the last but I hope that I make up for that with surprises.**

* * *

"Pat," There was a voice calling out for me, followed by someone knocking on a door. There was another call, more knocking.

"I'm up," I told the voice, raising from my bed with mechanical movement, it seemed like I was wearing the same gear that had been shot up in last night. I threw the somehow intact jumper off and replaced it and rest of my clothes with a plaid shirt and jeans. Then to finish off I put on my glasses.

I didn't notice until about week after arriving here but somehow my eyesight had improved along with the rest of the body. At least ability wise. These glasses were just a pair of fakes, not cover up my identity or anything but simply because I believed that I looked better with glasses on.

I walked out my room and into the apartment's main area, the kitchen was at one end and Ben was at the other, working away at some article that Mitchell forced on him while he was in between large crime stories. Mitchell or as I was now meant to call him, at least according to Caldwell, Mr. Ellison was always attempting lean Ben off investigating crimes, he thought it was too dangerous for him, was worried that someone would go at for him in revenge.

So, for now, Ben was working on a piece about a charity fundraiser that Stark had hosted the previous night. It was for people affected by the Sokovian Crisis some years ago. Ben had a press invite to the party, apparently, this was an annual thing that Ben was sent to. So he was only leisurely typing up a storm, his pace being dictated by his interest in the subject.

Ben would have turned it down if he hadn't already needed the money, his wife, Doris was ill. She spent her time in the hospital, Ben was hoping that she would recover from her illness enough to come home soon. But the bills were steep so Ben took whatever work Mitchell paid him to do.

Skipping ahead over a few boring mourning details the two of us soon made our way back the to Bulletin Offices. Ben had some files he wanted me to sort through, then label them according to date, so that they could be scanned into a computer. This was part of the digitizing process that our files older files from the seventies and eighties were being put. It was a real preservation process that newer files had already been a part of.

It was during this work that I experienced the lovely presence of Caldwell. She had a sneer that only disappeared in the presence of Ben or Mitchell, her clothes were a much better business casual look than my own.

"Mr. Ellison," She spoke, her eyes looking away from me as if I was not worthy of her sight but this meant that she couldn't me nod at her. "I said, that Mr. Ellison," She spoke once again. "Wanted you in his office, Now"

There was an odd amount of anger that woman had for me. It was as if I was by me working here brought her problems in itself. Perhaps my presence took away some work that she could have paid overtime for. That would be a reason for it.

I put these thoughts away for the moment, walking forward into Mitchell's office. The man was sitting, leaned back relaxed in his chair. The boss seemed happy, which with Ben running around angering crime lords was first for him.

"Patrick, it's good that your here," The excited tone in his voice, showcased the vibe that I got from the man whenever the paper had a rise in sales. He placed his hands together, it was a pose that reminded of Mr. Burns. "Please have a seat, we have a bit to discuss"

"Of course, sir"

"You've been here a few months now," He started to shift through several familiar papers on the desk. He picked one up and slid across the desk to me. "Is that one of pieces Ben had you write?"

I nodded as I took a look at it, the faux-article was about a years-old crime spree, it was about some thief by the name of David Clinton, a former professor at a university that came under his wife's gambling debts. He used technology that he developed to break into a vault, SHIELD at the time managed to keep what tech that was under wraps. My faux-article was focused on the dangers that SHIELD's concealing the facts behind the crimes Clinton and how did set a precedent.

In other words, it was an easy article to write the power of hindsight.

"I like how you write," Mitchell told me, there must have surprise on my face because he chuckled. "I do, you've learned a lot under Ben"

"I don't even like that article," I told him, leaning back in my chair. It was the truth, I found that the piece was bland and could have only be written with the knowledge of the future that I had now. "Its pace is bad, I find my own pose appalling in that piece"

"Exactly," He told me, cutting off any further remarks I could make about the piece. "That's why I know your first piece will better"

"My first!" I yelled excitedly, sitting up with energy. "What on?!" My imagination was running wild, what fascinating project was I about to undergo.

"Well," Mitchell smiled, I think he found my exuberant display amusing. "We'll start you out small," He handed me out another sheet of paper. "There has been a string break-ins at this street for the past week, head down there and interview a few people." He shifted himself to look at his computer screen. "There was an incident last night so cops should still be on scene"

I could do nothing but nod, as I left the room, this was most excited I'd been since coming here. I was making an almost meteoric rise in the Bulletin. One I wasn't sure that worked, I'm secretary about to become a journalist, is that thing that happens? It didn't matter, I decided. If Mitchell wanted to see if I could make it in that field, then great.

I was so happy that I practical pranced, but I managed to keep myself from doing anything embarrassing in front of the others. On the way out of the office, Caldwell stood by the door. She was standing there with a strange smirk.

"Lunch Break hasn't started yet, Patrick," She said my name as if she was testing to see if the name really belonged to me. It didn't but I don't imagine that she knew that. "Get back inside"

"No can do, Caldwell," There was a hop to my step, a feeling jubilation that this lady couldn't transcend. "I've been sent a job to do by the bossman, you know outside of the office," I jogged past her rather pissed expression.

Having left the building, I started to jog at what others would consider below a runner's pace. I considered it the long way. It was then that I remembered, I had forgotten to check the address I was headed.

It was lucky that I didn't have to head back, because in my hand still was the report that Mitchell had handed to me earlier. Looking down I saw that the address, and while it shouldn't have surprised me for some reason it did. It was the store from last night.

What a massive coincidence, that I will not question whatsoever.

From there a picked my pace back up, as I thought about the route I would take, I remembered that the bus nearby, it's route leads near the location of the store. This was a situation I put myself in, you see several weeks ago Ben offered to teach me how to drive. I found too silly when I run over a hundred miles per hour, but it leads to me not wanting people to get suspicious about me getting around too fast.

I hopped onto the bus with little fanfare, lucky for me that there was one free double seat. Since getting the power of super speed I found buses to be painfully slow. I would spend my newly required lighting brain's time on buses daydreaming away about the homeland. Where I was in New York just as easy access to green, to grass that my home Ireland did. I never thought I would miss the smell being cut in a field. It was a different sort smell than I front yard grass getting cut, it was just so much more of it, more intensity to the smell.

"Hey," A young brunette spoke up, dragging me away from the homeland with one the driest voices I had ever heard. "No one sitting there, good," She said in such a rush that I didn't have time to respond.

"Phh," I stumbled at this small brunette sitting beside me. She wore dark clothes, a black jacket and grey scarf with matching black pants. The way she sat as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible. Eventually decided on my word choice. "I'm Pat, Pat Doyle"

"Jessica"

There was a bored uninterested vibe I got from her. I decided that she didn't want to talk and simply waited for my stop on the bus in deadly silence. As I stood up to leave the bus I made sure to keep track of her, she seemed familiar somehow.

I put the lady in the back of my mind as I strolled up to the store where my heroics had been experienced for the first time. I imagined the praise that would be heaped onto that brave citizen that my delved into vigilantism but was done help a brave old man stand up the bullies of this city.

The first thing I saw was the yellow police tape surrounding the outside of the store. The damage that both I and the thugs inflicted on the place was as I had remembered it. I seemed to be the only reporter there, it made sense this wasn't really a crime that needed physical attention, it was minus the vigilante just a break-in gone badly. There were three uniformed officers standing guard. I approached the most affable looking officer.

"Hello, sir," He looked at me, no doubt to tell me to stay back from the tape but I interceded first. "I'm from the New York B-Bulletin, a-and I would like to ask you some questions if that is n-not any trouble, sir"

"Okay," It was a simple sentence, he was no doubt taking pity on my false stammering tone and nerves. "Both no direct reference to me, I do not want anybody mentioning I said anything in the papers"

"Of course," I nodded at him, it could be a concern for one of his superior not to let this example of vigilantism out, but no one was going to rat him out if he told some green journalist about such a small time crime. "Pat Doyle, it's nice to meet you," At this, I took out my notepad and pen.

"Sergeant Mahoney," He looked me up and down as if checking to see if I really was Pat Doyle of the New York Bulletin.

"R-right, then what happened here?" I asked as if I didn't know already. "Seems to me like some kind of break-in gone bad,"

"That seems to be the long and short of it"

"Do we have a time of e-event"

"About 2:30 AM, we can't be sure because the owner, a Phillip Jackson didn't have any cameras installed, just an alarm"

"N-no one was badly hurt right?" I asked honestly, not recalling so much blood just outside the store. It was a terrible mistake, I would have to be more careful so that I would just knock them out cold, rather than out of the store.

"Oh, people were badly hurt alright," He looked around, checking to see if any else was listening in. "One guy," He started to whisper this. "He looked to have most of his limbs broken, we won't be able to tell the extent of the damage until x-rays come," Mahoney wiped his brow, in what was a display of anguish for the injured party.

"And this was the robber?" I asked tentatively, starting to feel green at the raw damage that I accidentally inflicted on man. I should have dodged some of those blows, at least to keep him from being crippled for life. That just wasn't my intention last night, I only wanted to stop them from tearing apart the store.

"No," The officer shook his head to my utter surprise. "The man and two others, as far as we can tell, from eye-witnesses, they were trying to stop some black mask guy from," He stopped amazing for a second, then turned and pointed his head at the broken up entrance of the store. "Well, doing that"

"That sounds brave," I told him, which the most dishonest sentence I had said to him besides my name is Pat Doyle. "Is it possible to learn the names of these brave men"

"Well, only one had ID," He revealed, tipping his hat off his head as that helped him remember the name that I was waiting to hear. "His name, Jim O'Reilly"

* * *

 **(The Hell's Dine and Eat, The Next Day)**

"Are you ready to order?" A charming young waitress asked a man who sat on a table for two.

"Not yet, Miss," She was told politely. The man was in his mid-twenties to his early thirties, he wore a cheap grey suit, with a pair of stylish round red sunglasses. At his side was a white walking stick. These signaled to people that this man was blind. "I'm just waiting for a friend before ordering"

"Can I get you anything while you wait?"

"Just a glass of water," The man said, his soft voice like jazz. "If that's no trouble?'

"No trouble at all, sir," The young lady left to retrieve the pitcher and glass for him.

"Hey, Matt," A newcomer spoke. He was a man with a suit of similar quality to Matt's but with long fair hair.

"Morning Foggy," Matt smiled at his longtime friend. Foggy, Foggy Nelson that was, he had met Matt years ago during college studying law, Matt had convinced his friend to open up their Law Firm together. But Foggy's longtime friend was unknown to him, the vigilante the people call The Black Mask.

"Listen to this," Foggy asked his friend as he sat down in the chair that was in front of his friend. He looked down at a newspaper, coughed once in an attempt to dramatize his voice and said.

"Hero, Father of One, Jim O'Reilly is hospitalized when saving elder's store from the Terror of Hell's Kitchen"

"What! But that is impossible," Matt nearly yelled, it was the first time that Foggy had ever heard his friend even raise his voice.

"I know," Foggy shook his head, misinterpreting his friend's shock and attempting to placate him with a nice tone. "You'd think that nutjobs don't come in enough flavors already," He put his hands together.

"This is bad," Matt said aloud, this news hitting harder than he expected. "Something has done about this," There was a tone to Matt's voice that his friend was unfamiliar with.

"Don't worry Matt, I'm sure that the police will get this lunatic soon"

* * *

 **The theme of this chapter is surprise!**

 **No action in this one, but I wanted to set up certain events for the future. I was otherwise struggling to find any action put in, so I just went with what flowed naturally and this what came out. So that meant mine that the timescale might confuse some but this is just as the law firm is just about to open in a few weeks, Matt and Foggy just have finalized the bank details.**

 **I kind of want a better title for that news articles.**

 **Will there be an Alliance?**

 **Or will they destroy each other?**

 **How will the DareDevil and our not-yet-an-Blueman eventual meeting fare?**

 **How soon will it take for Matt to find him?**

 **Will that Waitress ever take their order?**

 **And Other Important questions like did you notice that cameo/reference**

 **Please follow and review, I like to hear people's opnions afterall.**


	5. New York

**Author's Note: This will be a longer one, I don't usually write chapters, it's not something that I have much experience with. I hope that it meets with whatever low standards that people have come to expect from me.  
**

* * *

This was a place called 'Jimmie's'. It was a bar of deceptive importance, it was off all major streets. Many people had never had heard of the place, if you were to ask for directions to it, none could find it. The only people who knew about it weren't going to tell anybody.

Because it was a place very close to the heart of all crime empires in Hell's Kitchen.

It was a neutral meeting ground, it acted as a place like sacred ground to the crime lords of the city. So it was just the right place for these two large criminal organizations to meet. It was not the first time such a meeting took place here and it would not be the last.

This kind of meetings always took place in a back room of the bar, far away from anyone accidentally walking in on them. On one side of the room, were six people from The Kitchen Irish, on the other side were six of the Russian Mafia. In between the two a blank wooden table.

Two rivals brought together by a common enemy. The Man in Black Mask.

The had both been targeted by this freak, the Russians more so but the Black Mask had made one mistake. He made it so the attack on Jim O'Reilly a big deal in the media. While the man was being lauded as a hero, those in the know, just thought the Irish were showing weakness. They could not let that stand, you take down one of theirs, then you get made an example of.

The Russians on the other hand, their human trafficking ring was being beaten by down by this masked vigilante, they were losing hundreds of product each week. Thanks to this their reputation were on a downward spiral, they were being pushed by certain business partners to deal with this freak.

When the Russians got the heard the rumor of this freak being bulletproof, then they knew that losses they would had trying to deal with this freak and that it would be better to split the cost of forces needed to take this freak down with someone else. Lucky, the Irish were more than happy to do so if meant taking out this thing.

Vladimir Ranskahov, co-leader of the Russians along with his brother, Anatoly. Nesbitt, the leader of Irish. These two were here for the first time, meeting each other.

Nesbitt was the older of the two, having a balding head and being dressed in a fancy suit, he came off as the well put together one, while Vladimir had a scar across his eye and wore a light grey tracksuit. The Russian had the look of a seasoned fighter compared to the businessman vibe the Irishman had.

There were anger and suspicion between them, but a common foe was allowing them to overcome that.

"We have managed to track his routes through sightings," Vladimir spoke, his thick accent slurring his words. His finger drew across a map left on the table. "If we leave men at these points, we can ambush him,"

"And how do you plan on taking the shite down," Nesbitt responded to his counterparts words with the typical Irish flair. "Ain't no standard bullet taking that fecker down"

"That is why we have this," Vladimir slid a photo at the Irishman. It showed a case full of Metis-Ms, Russian rocket launchers. "If bullet don't do him in, rocket will," He leaned back then as if impressed with his own work.

"Too loud," Was the response Vlad given. "You start shooting up someplace with those next thing you know," Nesbitt cut his finger across his throat. "Iron Man or the military come descending down on our heads"

"What then would you suggest?" The Russian asked him, anger plain to see. "Shooting mistletoe at him?" There was such vile to his tone that was easy to see how he had descended into mocking his Irish counterpart.

Nesbitt looked to one of the men behind him, nodded his head.

"We managed to get some specialty items," The Irishman revealed, his smile almost cruel with the pleasure he felt at this news. "Some heavy duty firepower from a unique seller, a real Tinker, you could say"

"Heavy duty?"

A picture sliding across the table was his answer. It was a bulky grey color, the profile while similar to a rocket launcher, had an even thicker end to it, with tubes leading from the center to the back of the device. It was hard to see in this photo but Vlad could just make out the scrap like nature of the weapon but also the deadly blue glow at the end of its barrel, just the sight. It was a massive weapon that would have needed more than one person to operate it. It reminded him of something he never wanted to remember.

The Chitauri.

"What is that?" There was tremble to the Russian's voice, a terror to his face, this was feeling he had no truly felt since childhood.

"That my friend," The leader of the Irish smiled, his teeth gleaming with delight. "Is death, and we're dealing with three units of the stuff"

* * *

It was several weeks since Matt had heard the news about that store robbery and he was not one step closer to finding the other Man In The Black Mask. He'd been too busy to look for him, the most he could do was to hope that he would run into him while on patrol or investigate the Mafia.

Then came Karen Page and all the trouble that came with her. She was now a former employee of Union Allied Construction, who discovered corruption with the company funnelling funds away from the company's official task of repairing the damage done to the area by the Battle of New York and into their executive's pockets.

The group soon targeted the young woman for elimination but thankfully for her sake, Matt was able to help with both of identities. By representing her in a legal function as Matt Murdock and then protecting from the assassins sent after her as the Man in the Black Mask. Now she works as the secretary in their office of Nelson & Murdock Defense Attorneys. She was good at her new job and had a moral foundation that the both Matt and Foggy respected.

"Good morning Matt," She told him, as he entered their offices. She was already sitting when he arrived, bent over her desk and looking over some files. "Wait until you get a load of this"

"You sound excited," It was a relief that she was still capable of such Enthusiasm for work after all she had been through. "What are you at?"

"You remember me telling you about how the Man in The Black saved me right?"

"Of course I do," Matt responded, hiding his embarrassment at the concealed praise for the Masked Man. "He saved your life, that's something to remember and be grateful for"

"Well," She shifted around a few papers around. "There's a reporter at the New York Bulletin, a Mr Patrick Doyle, and he's seeming to be handling all the articles on The Man with The Black Mask"

"Really?" Matt asked, his interest peaked at this news. "I had never heard of him before now"

"Yeah, he's a new guy on the paper," She started to pack her bags. "He seems to be an expert on our vigilante"

"You want to learn more about this guy?" He was almost surprised, the lawyer would have thought she would have wanted to stay away from things that reminded her near death experience.

"Yep," Karen replied with a simple answer. "I wanted to have a talk to him about why does he fo things he does," She shook a stack of papers. "Look at this headline, Monster of Hell's Kitchen saves a boy from Russians, does that sound like the same guy that robbed an old man?"

"No, it doesn't," He admitted, changing his walking stick from one to the other. Matt was kind of on the back foot. "It almost sounds like two different people," He didn't want to sound too sure of that, just in case Karen started to suspect something.

"That's it" She twirled out from behind her desk and out of the office. "Thanks, Matt, I'll see you later," With that Karen left, leaving the blind lawyer all alone. In silence, but with a thought, perhaps Matt should visit this reporter

* * *

"This is your new desk," Caldwell informed, her sneer more pronounced than it ever had been before. "I hope you enjoy it,"

"Thanks, Caldwell," I said with the biggest shit eating grin on my face. I took pleasure in my new found position, higher up the totem pole than her. "I'll have a cup of tea, two sugars, soy milk"

"What," Her face was priceless. I swear that there was something wrong with me to enjoy angering me. She walked away after that, I would wait for at least a few minutes before checking to see if she was actually making it.

I made a decent amount of job progress since joining this paper, ever since the first article about the Man in The Black Mask, I had become a mild hit for a series of articles that Mitchell had wanted to be written on him. The man was happy to bring me up to writing articles full time.

That lead to my new cubicle here. It was small, it was had one desk, one desktop, and three walls but it was mine. Even its dull grey and cream color scheme didn't put a damper on my mood. A mood that was soon to be improved further by the increased salary. Yup, I was on my way up in the world.

A whistling reached my ears, it was Ben my Journalistic mentor. He had a massive smile on his that I had been seeing since last weeks article about the Union Allied Construction scandal. Making his way down to me, he leaned on one of the walls of my new cubicle.

"Things are looking good," Ben smiled with the energy of a younger man. "Numbers are coming in, last Friday's issue was a massive hit"

"That news was slow coming in." Usually, the sale numbers come much faster than that, I should know, I was handling those number it a few weeks ago personally.

"Well apparently there was some sort of electrical accident with a server," There was a shake of his head, no doubt a sign of his feeling for durability of the Bulletin's electronics. "Fried a lot of info, luckily we still have paper backups for what was lost"

"That is lucky," And also suspicious, what kind of electrical accident was it? Did the machines overheat? No that would have caused more problems than simple data loss or less depending on the severity of the heat build in certain parts of the server.

It sounds like it was power loss. The rational side to me says that it just a common random event, that there was no one behind it. The other side of me, the one that was aware that I was in a superhero universe, that side knew that power loss could have been set up to allow for someone to remove data from the computers.

"So," Ben's smile returned, radiating joy with his pearly whites. "Enjoying the new workspace, are we?"

"Yes," I told him, hoping that he would see the true radiance I had for the workspace. It felt great to progress here at the Bulletin, even if it was into a role that I didn't expect when I started as a secretary. "The first article that I will write on this desk is on," I took a deep dramatic breath. "whether or not Hell's Kitchen would get a new subway line."

"Ouch," There was wince on the elder reporter's face. "That's rough"

"It's not so bad," I laughed slightly at his face. "Not every story can be about crime sprees, the readers would get bored with all that energy," I sat down on my new chair. "Have to slow down sometimes, let them catch their breaths"

"Yes that is true, but it is not as interesting to investigate," Ben took his arm off the wall. "Don't want to waste my time"

"Everything deserves reporting Ben"

He nodded at me as if agreeing in spirit but still showcasing his distaste for the work. It was understandable, he went into this work because he felt like he could make a difference here, help bring down criminals and expose corruption. It wasn't that he looked down at other subjects but that it wasn't what he was passionate about.

Ben's mood suddenly became tense, as he looked me up and down. He started to wave me to move into his office with him, apparently, he wanted to discuss a story he was working one with me.

"Sit down, I just have to lock the door," Ben spoke, his tone from earlier being replaced with that of regret. "Never know who will just come walking in"

He then sat in his chair. There was a tense silence, I could almost feel myself joke on it. A delectable feature of this room that I didn't notice before now was the exact details on the article on his wall. They were all big-time articles, dealing with corruption and crime rings. Except for one.

"Is that...is that mine?" I asked him, feeling accomplishment at being put on his wall.

"Yes," He sighed, I couldn't quite place that sigh, whether it sounded proud or sad. "I don't know if I want to keep it up anymore," It wasn't a question, somehow it was a statement.

"Why?" I attempted to keep the disappointment out of my voice, it was only.

"How long did you think you could keep-" He reached under the table, grabbing a bunch of black sports gear on throwing on the table. "This a secret." I could place his tone now, it was of disappointment.

"I-I-I," I stumbled over my words, the newly found tension made me metaphorically sweat. "I did only once," I decided to be truthful, it was disgraceful that I even kept it from him.

"There store?" There was a question to that.

"They were going to smash up the place," I revealed. "I heard about, tied to stop"

"You went too far," Ben nodded, his understanding of the situation now coming in on its own. "You hit them too hard"

"I actually only hit one, one was hit by one another and the last just hurt himself hitting me" It felt awkward to explain. Mostly because it was embarrassing.

"The Hero Father," He guessed, Ben's skills of deduction were the highest that I'd ever known. "Why did you write the article like that? He's a thug"

"You knew?"

"Don't deflect"

"Few reasons," I waved my left hand in a circle, as it hypnotized him. "The first is because I can't prove that he is those things, he's kept his record clean, only hearsay tells me otherwise, can't print hearsay"

"The other reason?"

"There are different faces that people show to people, to the people he brutalized, Jim was a nightmare," A deep breath, in and out. "To his mafia boss just a pawn,"I decided to stand at that point. "To his daughter, he was her hero"

Ben sat there in thought, no doubt trying to predict what I will say next.

"I genuinely believe that most people are born good, that world brings them down, tempts them into wickedness but I also believe that this headline could let the world see O'Reilly in a different light, the same way his daughter does"

"What effect would that even have?"

"The city will have their eye on him for years, I don't think it will give him room to commit crimes, stick a man in a role long enough and he becomes it"

"For a man that beats people up as a vigilante, you have a strange amount of nativity to you" At that, we both chuckle slightly. This helped lessen the tension that had built up between us in this room. "You've convinced me that," He pointed at my article. "Stays up there"

"Really," I said, the relief I felt at this news left me breathless. For some reason being on that wall meant something to me. "Thank you so much"

Ben and I sat in silence for a bit, until Ben broke it by starting a different but not unrelated topic.

"I know that your not the original Man in the Black Mask, sightings of him are older than your residency here" It was a statement, a matter of fact.

"Yeah, that was a mistake of mine, I didn't realize that people would make that connection" I sat back down at this point, no longer feeling as dramatic.

"Oh, how could people have thought that," His sarcasm so open that even I could see. "Black Sports gear vigilante, there must be loads of those"

"Yeah, I know, it was stupid," I sighed. "But that has lead to a…" I stalled. "problem now,"

"What is that?"

"The Irish may think the Black Mask is bulletproof?"

"You got out and warn him," There was an urgency to his voice. "They're going be packing heavy-duty firepower after him now"

"I know," I admitted, sighing, it was an action that I seemed to be doing a lot recently. "I've tracked down his travel routes, using what I could find out about Russian trafficking routes to estimate where he will turn up next," I stood up and began to walk towards the door. "I plan to find him tonight, there should be a shipment the Russians are bringing in at the pier"

"Good but look, if you're going to be doing this," Ben reached down, grabbed another bag and threw on the table, covering the old sports gear. "Then you got to fly under your own colors"

* * *

There wasn't a lot to compare racing over rooftops too, it had a certain flair that blazing through the streets lack. I had to learn how to jump differently to this because when I started I cracked the concrete. I'm even sure what I am doing differently but whatever it is it's working.

The rooftops were of all shapes and sizes, making leaping from one to next gently a challenge, due to the vents of the buildings being placed at different spots. If I landed on one of those there wouldn't be a vent anymore.

I was wearing Ben's new gift. It wasn't some kind of super suit that was made from bullet resistant material. It was a blue spandex sports suit with a hooded jacket and an old domino mask that Ben had for reasons he didn't go into. If it wasn't a gift I would have turned it down, because spandex superheroes are somehow cliche even here.

And they felt kind of breezy to wear.

I stopped a fair distance away from the dock. I needed to get a lay of the land and not go thundering in, with the amazing vision powers I had, I could make out the containers that the Russians were unloading.

"Can you even see those from here?" A voice popped up from behind me.

"Yeah, I can," I replied not showing any surprise that I actually felt. "Can you?"

"Nope, not at all," Was the comeback of the Man in The Black Mask. "Is that another one of your powers, supersight?"

"That and some sort of thermal vision"

"So your fast, strong, tough and have an array of eye modes," He nodded his head at me while pointing at my direction. "Someone won the lottery," He laughed lightly.

"How did you find me? I was looking for you"

"I was coming here myself when I noticed you leapfrogging from building to building," He explained to my embarrassment, another thing that I had a lot lately. "It what was really noticeable"

"Oh, that's something to fix," I replied nonchalantly turning to look back at the cargo container with my thermal vision.

"What do you see?"

"There are about two dozen people in the container, from their height I'm guessing they're children"

"You know this a trap?" My fellow vigilante enquired. "We've pissed them off and now they are setting the bait"

"There is only one thing to do with a trap," I told him, hoping to the next building with the ease that neared flight.

"What's that?" The Black Mask followed me over to the building with flips and along jumps that some masked the impact.

"You spring it"

"What if they take the people as hostages? No, I can deal with this using stealth, on my own"

"Unless they brought something to deal with me," I responded. "I have a great deal of respect for you but I don't think you're in my weight class"

"Is that so," It wasn't so much a question but more a show of annoyance. "What would you recommend?"

"We both go in, you first," I pointed to him. "Then after a period of two or four minutes, I crash in as loud as I can, giving you time to take some of out from behind"

"Can you do that?"

"Of course, I'm invincible"

"Well," He said starting to run. "I'll hold you to that, four minutes"

I watched him as made his way to the docks. He was graceful without being wasteful of his movements. It reminded Pat of a trapeze performance he had seen in his childhood. But unlike that there was no net here, the two of them were playing with much more than their lives.

The newly blue vigilante watched his dark counterpart enter the Russian's area. He counted down in seconds the time as it passed, so he could execute the plan at exactly the right moment. Then when the time was right.

He leaped.

* * *

It wasn't often that Anatoly was happy to personally deal with an issue, of the two brothers he was the worse fighter, but he could handle himself, especially with the hardware they had available now. There was no chance that the freak would survive the night if he appeared.

"Oigh." It wasn't all happy dealings, his brother had decided that they would enter an alliance to deal the freak. With the Irish of all people.

"What do you want," Anatoly wasn't able to keep a nice tone with the Irish. "We're busy"

"We only need to know where to be positioned for the ambush," The Irishman shrugged his shoulder. "It important to keep us in hidden places so that it will work"

"Right," Anatoly agreed reluctantly, he did not like them but he could overcome this feeling for the sake of his brother and their business. "Take your place in the warehouse, we give you signal when the time is right"

With that, the two made their way into position. The few men that the Irish had lent Anatoly were now out of sight, waiting for the sign that their prey was in position. It was a welcome thing for him and his fellow Russians, even though they were working to together on this, the Russians didn't trust them not to betray them somehow. They had been taking over the Irish's territories for the last few years.

"Boss," A nameless grunt of his walked up to him. "The cargo is getting restless in there when are going to move them?"

"Soon, we mustn't move our bait too close the front of the area, that way that freak has to go through us," It was a decent plan or at least it followed the rule of keeping it simple. "If you can't keep them quiet until then I will take it out of your hide"

With that the Russians continued what one could consider a stare off competition between themselves, attempting to keep the attention of their surroundings up. You never knew when the Man in The Black Mask was just going to drop in from above.

It was then the most surprising thing happened, an entirely new guy just dropped from the sky. He was in a cheap blue spandex suit, with a hooded jacket that was a different darker shade of blue. The hood shadowed his face so much that he couldn't make out what was happening.

"Hello lads," Oh god, it was another Irishman and this one was dressed up like a freak. "Hear that you lot have committed crimes of that to include human trafficking, surrender now and receive mercy that the law provides." It wasn't one of the Irish's then, that meant he was just another would be vigilante and that means.

They could open fire.

All the Russians there opened fire, there was rifles, handguns, full and semi-auto machine guns all were concentrate on the figure before them. The bullets belted him like rain on an umbrella. The ground soon became covered in bullet cases as they finished unloading their payload.

"That was something," The blue clothed man walked forward, slowly as if not provoke the rapidly reloading Russians. "Your weapons are useless, drop them and surrender, I am sure that cops will treat the mercy traffickers deserve"

From the second they had fired Anatoly knew that this freak was the one they were waiting for. The bullets having no effect on him just proved that. So when the first bullet bounced he hit the buzzer, that would call the first wave of real firepower.

"Okay, force it is." Blueboy stalked forward with the purpose to bust some heads. That was when their men who strategically placed with Metis-Ms, already the rockets were flying down on the target.

The explosions were loud, they rang the ears of the men there. A rather large smoke cloud enveloped the area their target was, they waited for baited breath for the reveal of what remained of that freak.

"Justice my friends, has no weakness," It walked out of the smoke like all that was done to him was being pelted with water balloons, even the damn spandex was unblemished. The smoke oozed around him as disappeared into the air, it gave off the look of an otherworldly being. "And neither do I"

"Fuck." The Russian co-leader swore, he had wanted to do this without the Irish but it looked like they would need their exotic weapon. He pushed a button on an old pager he had set to message the Irish when it was time.

The reacted with a speed he hadn't been aware that they were capable of. Two men held the rocket launcher like device, one on his shoulder, the other appeared to be trying to aim it at the hooded freak.

"Shot it for fuck sake," Yelled one of Anatoly's own men, dragging the blue guy's attention over to the Irish. Even though they couldn't see the look on his face, Anatoly could practically imagine the smug look on that freaks face vanish once he got hit by this.

Then another surprising thing happened.

The freak suddenly blurred to the side where some of his men, who were now blocking the line of fire the Irish had on him. The guys turned to the Blue Man, swinging their firearms like clubs in some kind of feeble show of force. They whacked harmlessly off his blue suit and out of their hands, then the men were knocked out by the freak.

While the two on the floor would usually mean that the Irish should have now had a shot, the blue man had already blurred across to another formation of his men, this time the ones who had shot the rockets, before they could respond he picked up by the shirt and threw him to another, then he just karate chopped the third into unconsciousness.

Another attempt at line-up by the Irish was met with a burst of superspeed to what was left of Anatoly's men, that weren't behind him, in this part of the pier, and repeated what happened to the others. Anatoly began to wonder where was the others at the back of the area, they were meant to come out at the sound of gunfire. Then he turned around.

It was then Anatoly knew that he had fucked up.

Another vigilante, this time it looked like it was the actual Man in The Black Mask, was tearing through the men he had left covering his back like they were kindergarteners. He twisted and he flipped around what little gunfire that they sent at him. When the Mask got close to them he'd just rip their guns out of their hands, whack them with it and then fling it at the nearest person.

Soon all the Russian men, minus Anatoly, were knocked out. All the crooks that left were members of the Irish. That was when the Irish handling their weapon got jittery, they started to fire nearly randomly at any target. Anatoly and the Black Mask Vigilante each got behind some shipping crates to hide from the blasts.

Sadly that wouldn't protect them for long, the two of them could see that the blasts were going through other shipping crates.

The Blue Man was blurring to their location, no doubt he was going to use his speed in an attempt to help his partner to leave. This mixed with the arc of fire that the gunner had developed in their panic, meant that as a blast was about to hit The Man in the Black Mask, he was shoved out of the way and it hit Blue instead.

For the first time since those vigilantes had shown themselves that night, Anatoly's spirit rose. The Blue Man rolled on the floor, screaming pain. It was as if it was his time experiencing pain, he was trying to stand now. That would be allowed.

"Again," Anatoly screamed to which the gunners were more than happy to comply to his command. This time it blasted him back into another shipping container, finally, they had broken through the freak's blue suit. The skin underneath was red, Anatoly could smell the burning flesh. as it was charging for the third strike a pistol broke the nose of one the man lining the shot causing it to misfire into the air.

The Man in Black swooped in to pick up the Blue one, carrying him on his shoulder. Anatoly took aim for that freaks legs but found that the gun clicked empty. He reached into his pocket, drawing a spare clip, only for when looked up again to find that his prey had vanished.

That was when thing got worse.

Sirens could be heard in the distance, Police Sirens. They were coming this way. Anatoly found that the Irish were already fleeing with their weapon, so he shook the closet member of his crew awake.

"Get up now, we have to leave," He informed him. "Wake as many as you can but forgot the cargo"

The Russians scrambled from the dock, leaving only to few to hurt to move. They could at least to solace that even if they couldn't keep the cargo, they found a weapon that hurt that new Blue freak. Now All they needed to do was to find out where the Irish got it from.

* * *

 **Author's Note: My Longest chapter yet, I tried to take my time with it. I don't know if I will be making a lot of chapters with this length, I find it easier to just to write shorter chapters. I also find the pacing on those shorter chapters so much easier.**

 **Then on to certain character interactions, Matt did some research on the now really Blue Man after Karen brought up the reporter to him. That's why he didn't have put up much of a fight to teaming up with him, he wasn't sure if he could take him. At least that way he could have some control over what he'd do and could keep an eye.**

 **Also Pat forgot to warn about people thinking he is Matt, so oops. Honestly, he forgot when he noticed the people in the cargo container since he and Matt were working together here, he figured that he would soak up any damage Matt couldn't handle. So mission accomplished.**

 **Pat once again allowed his power to go to his head, what he should have done is, the second he noticed the exotic weapon was the running around behind them and get rid of it. Instead, he thought that he could tank it like everything else. Mind you it didn't kill him, but he won't eager to test his invulnerability again.**

 **This is will be something that will happen less often as the story goes on. He will learn to address these points because the MCU is not somewhere that he can just coast without thinking about the consequences.**

 **The police were called by the people overhearing the explosions, so those kids in the cargo containers will be free and safe. This event is a too high profile to so otherwise.**

 **The next chapter will deal with the fallout of this event because Matt now has to get Pat some medical attention who won't ask questions.**

 **Please review and follow this story if you guys like it, after all, that tells me that you're interested in the story continuing.**


	6. Save Me

**Author's Note: This a bit shorter than the other chapter, the last chapter was longer and I have been under the weather so it has been a bit harder to write.**

* * *

For a man that was so skinny, he was a heavy guy was the thought of Hell's Kitchen's personal homegrown vigilante who carried his blue counterpart into his apartment. He kept them out of sight by staying by the shadows, the dark colors that the two had chosen for the outfits helped disguising them into the shadows of the building.

He gently left him lying on his couch, making sure that he was on the opposite side to that of his wound. The Blueman huffed and squawked in pain, forcing himself up to a sitting position, which only caused him more pain. At the quick breathes and grunts of pain the blue vigilante gave out this time caused his counterpart to bend down to his face.

"Listen to me," The Devil of Hell's Kitchen told him. "Lay down and don't try moving, you have severe burns on your chest and you need treatment"

"No hospital, too many questions"

"I know," He placated the injured party. "I called a friend, she can take care of you"

This seemed to calm the Blueman down quite a bit. He rolled back down onto his good shoulder, the now exposed skin on his left shoulder, the spandex, and the jacket had been burned away leaving open to the air.

There were a swing and an opening, signaling that Claire Temple had entered the apartment. She strolled in wearing a nurse uniform, the pastel color standing out of the dark shadows of the apartment. There was a frown on her face showcasing a certain amount of displeasure she had for being called out here at this time. Then she took one look at the burn victim on the couch.

"Jesus," Claire exclaimed, her hands coming to her mouth in horror. "Did someone use a flamethrower on this guy"

"Plasma," The injured party corrected, making another noise of pain along with it. "Some kind of concreted plasma thrower, more like a blow torch than fireball"

"Sounds painful," She told peering down at the red muscle showing. "Looks like it burned you all the way down to your muscle, I am going to need you to take off your top"

"And reveal my secret identity," He seemed to chuckle at this like there was some joke.

"Oh, no you're some guy I never met," She said, joked trying to convince him of how foolish he was being. "I suppose that you would prefer to die of infection"

"I was gonna take it off," He groaned and with his right hand ripped it right off. "Can you imagine, I just got these clothes too"

Clare took one look at him in a dark room, squinting at him. She took out some medical supplies from her bag and got to work. There was a youth to his face that she only noticed while up close.

"How old are you?" Clare as him softly.

"22," He coughed out.

"Really, you look about fifteen," It wasn't a question but a statement laced with disbelief.

"I get that a lot," The Blue Man informed her. "I got a baby face"

"Is that right, what do you think?" She asked the only other person in the room.

"Seems right to me." Was the response from him.

She worked quietly for a while, inspecting the wound as she disaffected it. Looking at the damage, it was much too severe for any treatment she could give to help him. So the nurse found herself coming to a conclusion that she hadn't wanted to.

"You're going to have surgery to deal with this, properly a skin graft," She told wrapping bandages around his torso, to keep dirt from entering the wound. "There is nothing else I can do"

"Not," There was a yelp of pain as he laid back down. "Possible"

"What do mean? Not possible, you practically have no skin on your shoulder!"

"No way anyone will manage to take any skin off my body that isn't some kind of superweapon"

"Too badass?" She asked him mockingly.

"Claire," The apartment's owner interrupted her from speaking further. "He's bullet-proof," He scoffed at his own words. "Well, also high-grade military rocket-proof"

"What!" She let out a surprised yelp at the noise. Now she was worried about what weapon did that to this guy, especially if criminals on the street had that level of hardware now.

"Yup," The Blue Man chuckled, what little ego he had left was resurfacing. "Right now, I am the strongest guy in this city, though I thought was invulnerable"

"Where did all that strength get you, on my couch, in agony," He went over to where the hood and domino mask was discarded, picking them up and throwing them in a bin. "I think this is where you get off"

"Says that man I had to save from the plasma weapon tonight"

"Matt?" Was the nurse's horrified response to that news. That lead to a short moment where she chewed him out for being reckless. Claire decided for the two of them that Matt couldn't control what other people did with their lives. Then there was nothing but silence for a few moments between the three.

"Your Matt?" The Blueman asked him, he sounded kind of confused to Claire, which if he knew what she thought with his tone here, then he was right to be confused.

"Sounds like you know me from that reaction?"

"Read about the blind lawyer from Hell's Kitchen, Matt Murdock," He told him truthfully. "I didn't think that he was the Man in The Black Mask though"

"How do you know I'm blind?"

"It's the way you respond to sentences, physically I mean, it remembers me of my cousin, she was blind"

"I wasn't always blind"

"Neither was my cousin"

"You know me," Matt spoke. "But I don't know you, what's your name?"

"People call me Pat," That as weird phrasing. "Pat Doyle"

"The reporter?" Matt found that interesting.

"Hey, Claire you don't mind me calling that do you?" The patient asked her, to which she told him that she didn't mind. "Grab the mask out of the bin, it's still usable"

She did so, much to the annoyance of Matt. After that Claire waved Matt over to the hall, telling him that she had something to private to say to him.

"I don't think that he'll make it"

"What," Matt was aghast, he wanted the kid to stop his vigilante life but not like this. "Isn't there something we can do"

"Not with skin as tough you say he has," She shook her head. "We can only hope that the open wound won't get infected for months while the wound scabs over"

"That's a long time," Matt ran his hands through his short hair. "isn't there anything we can give him to boost his immune system," He stammered out. "Keep him from being sick"

"If he won't see a doctor, we can't test him, so we can't even guess how his body will react to any medicine we give him"

There was a deadly silence between the two, they were feeling the pressure of failing such a young. The guilt was especially bad on Matt's side, maybe the kid would have been able to deal all the mobsters by himself if he hadn't been there, the kid was certainly doing well enough before he had jumped in to contribute.

For Claire, her guilt came from her inability to help the young man on the couch. She was a nurse that had sworn an oath to help all those in need of help, to do no harm. It was crushing for her to think that she couldn't do more for the young man on the couch. It was then the two were surprised by the next thing the youth did.

"You know I can hear you guys," Pat yelled over to them.

* * *

Today was the day, he was finally free, Jim was going home to his daughter. It had been a few weeks since he had fought that masked freak. His daughter had visited him several times already but that wasn't the same as when he could go home and read her a story.

He was still kind of injured, so he wasn't going to be doing any hard work for Nesbitt or even Mickey, no he was going to take easy for a while. There were management duties for him to arrange but it was ensured that he wouldn't be busting heads anytime soon.

"Mr. O'Reilly, it's a pleasure to meet you," A man that he never saw before. He was tall, in a really expensive black suit with a white shirt and an equally expensive pair of glasses. "I have heard so much about you." There was something false about the man in front of Jim.

"James Wesley." The suit brought his hand out to shake. Jim was not a stupid man, he knew from the sight of the man not to insult so he shook that hand.

"Jim O'Reilly"

"I know," Wesley replied in a matter of fact kind of way, his glasses glinting in the light of the hospital halls. "My employer has a great offer for you"

"Who'd that be?" The Irish father asked, there was a tension in his chest just from way Wesley said, employer.

"Let's just say a man who would be interested in supplying you with work"

"I've already got a job," Jim told him, he was a lot of things but Nesbitt had done right by him all these years, so he wasn't going to jump ship. "Pays well and all"

"Yes," The more mannerly of two sighed as if the what he was going to say would take a lot out of him. "But my employer can offer you something your one can't"

"What's that"

"A perfectly legit occupation"

"What? Why he would do that"

"He saw your heroics in a paper, we could use a man of your new reputation"

"I don't know, the Boss has been good to me"

"Yes," Wesley took an envelope out of his coat pocket."But think about the benefits, I knew that the store owner's insurance covered your medical bills but you won't have such a helping hand in the future, Mr. O'Reilly." He handed him the envelop over.

"That is true." It was a thought that he had a lot during his time in the medical ward. If wasn't the kindness of that old man, Phillip, he would be had been able to afford to recover as he has. Jim decided to rip the envelope open, peering into its content.

There was a real legal contact, Jim should know he spent enough time forging them to know the difference. The contact had a figure over three times the amount he was making now. This was the opportunity of the lifetime.

"It would have better hours than your current job." The suited man tempted Jim further with this. It was beginning to look like the best idea for his future, it would mean that he would be with his family more often.

"What would I be doing in this new job?"

"Less than you would in your current one," Wesley supplied. "You would just work as a bodyguard for my employer"

"There got to be better people than me for that?"

"Better trained? Sure, but not more motivated," Jim was complemented by the glasses-wearing man. "You took on great injuries fighting that Black Masked Man, we just want you to showcase a similar devotion to my employer"

It was sounding like a good deal, almost too good but he still had the thought of what would happen to his family if he were to die in this new role he would undertake. If he were to die in this job then unlike his work with the Irish they wouldn't be protected by the Irish Families from threats.

"What about my family"

"What about them?"

"What if I croak protecting your boss? Will they be taken care off?"

"They would live like Kings and Queens if that was to happen," It was said with so much conviction that Jim began to believe his every word. "Loyalty deserves rewards Mr. O'Reilly, and that would be the ultimate show of loyalty"

This was the nail in the coffin, Jim was soon on board with this new job. He would, of course, have to run this with his wife but when she hears of the benefits this role will bring his family, she will have to be behind him in this new venture, he wouldn't do it otherwise. Afterall it couldn't be any more dangerous to be a bodyguard than to be a member of the Irish Mafia.

* * *

After what was an awkward talk between that three in Matt's apartment about Pat's future chances, Claire left the two alone for the night. Matt tried to give up his bed for the wounded man but he refused and Matt didn't have the strength to force even an injured Pat into his bed. So Pat was on the couch, Matt was on the bed and after letting Pat use his phone to tell Ben that he was alright was how the two sleep for the night.

What happened next solved one mystery for Pat and opened another one.

He awoke from his slumber, sun shining down onto his face, he felt rejuvenated. The energy he had lost by getting hit last night, was almost replenished. In an away it reminded him of a fresh shower, it was as if he had been clean from the pain. His shoulder went from a blazing fire to a mild cup of coffee. Pat stood up from the couch with renewed vigor. He gingerly poked the wound through the bandages, feeling only the amount of pain he would from a bruise.

It was at that moment that Matt walked out of his room, somehow having bed hair with the little he had.

"Your up earlier than I thought," He enquired. "How's the shoulder." There was a certain amount of guilt that Pat could hear in the future DareDevil's voice.

"It feels amazing," Pat attempted to put words to his state. "Like it still hurts but it's nothing now"

Matt walked up to him, an odd frown on his face. He gently felt around the wound, his frown eventually turned into a smile.

"Have a look," He told. "We need to change the bandages anyway, you might as well see what's happened"

Pat practically ripped the bandage off his shoulder, what he found was nothing short of a miracle. What once oozed red and looked like Freddy Krueger's chest, now the only sign anything had been injured was a slight redness. The Wonderment he felt became enlightened as a sunbeam was coming through the window. Thoughts began to race in his mind, of red and blue.

Matt was confused when he decided to start humming an unfamiliar tone to him but to Pat, it was a tone real close to home.

* * *

 **Author's Note: There is technically more to that final scene, for instance, the two discuss their respective backstories but I don't think that people need to be retold Pat and Matt's backstories in this chapter so I left that out. If people want me to do summarize Matt's backstory then I will do so next chapter.**

 **I hope I didn't mangle any character interaction between Matt and Pat because those two will be interacting more often. How will this change things for Matt going forwards?**

 **So this was the moment that some of you were waiting for, that I hinted at some time ago in the thread. This will change Pat's expectations of himself, what kind of changes, well I prefer to let the chapters speak themselves in this instance. What kind of thoughts do you guys think he will be thinking now that he has figured it out.**

 **Jim has gone in a direction that I hope no one was guessing, it might be surprising to people that Fisk was interested in hiring him but it will all make sense in the future. It is all works out for his plans.**


	7. Happy Thoughts and Flying

**Author's Note: The Sun gives me the strength to write this chapter, Praise be that ball of nuclear fire.**

* * *

There were people standing around in a parking lot. First, there were the glasses-wearing man of manner, James Wesley and his employer Mr. Wilson Fisk. Fisk stood literally head and shoulders above the rest of the people here, a giant wearing an expensive suit, his bald head glinting in the light, Fisk was a presence that none could ignore.

Leaving the room were other people, some were just bodyguards but four of them were very influential. There was Nobu Yoshioka, a Japanese man controlling all of the Yakuza's dealings in this city and he had even more mysterious connections. There was the Russians, Vladimir and Anatoly Ranskahov who controlled their Mafia with a mix ruthlessness and reward, they used a Veles Taxi as a front for their more illegal they were in charge pushing the another person's product in this city. Madame Gao.

Madame Gao was an elderly Chinese woman and one of the biggest heroin dealers in New York, the boss of hundreds of dealers throughout New York she was no doubt the biggest in the world, and like Nobu Yoshioka, she had connections to something far deeper than Wilson Fisk could imagine. The last person to be mentioned was the Leland Owlsley, a ruthless financier that ensured that none of the money being made could be traced by the government.

Together they formed one of the biggest criminal alliances the city had ever seen, they had the cops in their back pockets the law could do nothing to them. As of this moment, they were Hell's Kitchen. But not all sides were equal, the Russians were in trouble.

The meeting that was just finished was about the disaster that was the pier incident the day before. Although the Blueman, as he was being to be called now, was injured and would not be bothering them for a while, their actual target had escaped, The Man In the Black Mask. He not only had he escaped but thanks to that blue freak the Russians had lost a lot of their men in this operation.

The Kitchen Irish could smell blood in the water, they decided to betray them during the pier incident and with the new exotic weapons at their disposal they were taking apart what surplus men the Russians had left. It wasn't looking good for the Russians side of this alliance, if they didn't deal with their problems soon, their allies will turn on them.

"It doesn't look like the Russians will be able to deal with their issues," Wesley piped to his boss as other members of this alliance were out of earshot. "We might have to step in ourselves otherwise we can forget absorbing their operation into our own"

"Yes...I realize..that this new...Blueman," Fisk spoke out, his tone distinct, he had a unique but elegant way of speaking. "Will need a special touch, have you managed to procure the services of Mr. O'Reilly?"

"Yes of course," Wesley told him proudly. "He was an easy hire, you just have to push the right buttons"

"Good, now that part has been set up, I need you to get in contact with a certain special group"

"A special group?"

"Yes, they have gone through some hard times recently," Fisk took a deep breath, his shoulders shrugging. "Their management has changed a few years ago and since then they've been having trouble finding new financial backers"

"What group is this called, I haven't heard of any shake-ups in New York's underbelly recently"

"Ah apologies Wesley, I hadn't realized that I'd yet to say their name"

"That okay sir, these things happen"

"Yes, yes they do," Fisk admitted as the two finally stepped into their limo. "They're called Advanced Idea Mechanics."

[hr]

Even the thoughts of how to test my new revelation, to ensure that I was right, that I had somehow, either gained a Kryptonian body or have received similar powers to one. I think the sun was what was powering me but that was a guess. The best poof I could get without going to some mad scientist is to try for the other Superman powers. So first step, flight.

I already had Ben call me sick as an excuse when I had thought that I been too injured to come into the work, so I was free for the Day. Ben had told me that since he already called me in as sick, that it would have been suspicious for me to come in now. I would go in later anyway, just say that we misjudged an injury and I was actually fine, no need to have Mitchell worry about me.

I entered the abandoned warehouse that Ben helped me find a few weeks ago, to help test my powers in a more private setting than a junkyard. The warehouse was scheduled for demolition in a few weeks, so I would have to find a new place soon.

The warehouse was just one massive room with a ceiling higher than a normal man could possibly launch himself with a long pole. It was still too small for me to jump my max in here but it was fine because it was about staying in the air and not reaching higher than before.

I jumped high into the air and fell. I jumped again, only to be met with the same result as before. I decided to take this into a different thought process. What ways could I learn to fly, perhaps fiction could hold the answer. The Peter Pan method.

The happy thoughts part, I don't know where I could get a fairy to do the other part.

So I imagined the happiest parts of my life, the feeling of accomplishments I felt for my achievements, I let them fill me up and so I jumped once more. I went up, and up until I started to scrape the ceiling with the top of my head. For one second, a tiny second, I stayed airborne, not losing my newly gained height.

Then I started to slowly fall, just gently descending down onto the ground. I landed with all the force of a feather, a smile graced my lips as I leaped once more. This time overshooting and getting stuck in the ceiling.

"Hello, Pat you there?" Ben's voice yelled out from below me.

"Up here, "I yelled out to him from this embarrassing position.

"What are you doing up there?"

"You know, hanging about, how about you?"

"Fine, just on a break, thought I would come in a see how you were doing," Was the amused reply. "You don't need a hand getting down from there do you?"

"Nope," I took my free arms and pushed my head out of the roof. "Watch," I told him as I descended slowly, floating down to just above the ground, hanging in the air.

"That was amazing," Ben smiled. "How long can you stay like that?"

"I don't know," I pondered on this, thinking of a test. "Jump on my back," I told him, showing him said back.

"What?"

"I want to see if putting more weight on me causes me to fall"

Ben sighed, he obviously thought that this was a bit too silly of a test. He leaped on my back with no word. We floated there for a few seconds before Ben leaped off and I decided to finish landing.

"So you were telling on the phone," Ben started to ask me. "That you thought that had the same powers of an old comic book character, Superman?"

"Yeah that's right, why do you ask?"

"I'm not familiar with him and wondered what other powers you think you'll have, that's all," Ben told him, sighing and rubbing the back of his head. "All these superpowers are a new thing for me to see up this close"

"Flight, freeze breath, heat vision and something else, I just can't put my finger on it but I feel like there should be one more"

"That is an impressive list of powers," Ben walked forward kicking a bit of debris from the roof that had fallen when I hit it. "In fact, that might be more than the current Avengers have put together"

"I wonder how to activate freeze breath?" It had to more than blowing out air hard.

"I don't know but better point yourself somewhere else if you try that"

"What do you think I should try next?" I asked unsure of what power to try for next. I thought that I was going to get all of them anyway, so the order I tried for them didn't matter.

"I don't know," Was Ben interested but unhelpful reply. "Whatever you feel more comfortable doing"

I just started to practice floating around the place for a bit. It wasn't all that fast of a power yet but I imagine that it will only get faster over time. Soon I will be outpacing planes as well as cars.

"You know you're too powerful to stay unnoticed by the big boys forever," The elder reporter told him, his tone as serious as the subject.

"I know," I admitted, eventually I would have to step up away from a lot of street crimes, at least in terms of super heroics. After all the police are actually equipped to deal with them. "I just need more time to deal with this"

"Well that times is coming, whether your ready or not"

* * *

I needed time to figure out what my story is. How did I these powers, is it like Captain Marvel, the DC one that is, where someone has granted these powers to me or is this a Superboy-Prime situation I was an actual Kryptonian and therefore had been adopted. I hoped not, it would properly kill me inside if that was the case, it means I really have lied to for my whole life.

The best thing I could hope, besides the Captain Marvel solution that is would be a Cir-El situation, hope that I am a human that has been biologically grafted Kryptonian DNA. That would mean I someone's pawn and I was not going to allow that.

No matter the case, that just leads into who did this? And why am I here?

Caldwell had watched that little pet project of Ben's for a few months now ooze his way into the office. He used what her side employers confirmed but could not prove were fake IDs and no real qualifications to get a position that took others in the office years of study to get even started at. There was a better person for the job he had now.

Because Patrick Doyle was a fake.

She at least only gave out information to the other papers, sometimes it was just people with big wallets but was still what she did never really took any money out of the more deserving hands. Only leaked stories when it was too late for other to stop them from being released or whenever Mitchell decided not to publish a story.

No one was hurt.

But this mooching young man taking advantage of whatever bond Ben had with his dad was taking money out of not only the pocket of someone more deserving but also her. She could never find where he left his research for his articles, if she didn't know better she would have said he wrote them from memory. If she didn't know what he was writing then she couldn't leak it.

It was not like she could ask Mitchell when the leak happens they would look for the people who know. Mitchell and that Moocher wouldn't have leaked it and at times the only people that knew what articles were being written were the writer themselves and Mitchell. If she asked and it got leaked then she was the obvious source.

That was why she was searching through the drawers of Doyle. There was nothing on the computer so the research must have been on paper in the drawers if she could just find a piece of something. Her buyers were more interested in the new kid right now so that was where the money.

"Caldwell," She jumped in fright. It was the moocher. Look at with his without a hair on his face, a green plaid shirt, and his obviously fake glasses. "What are you doing at my desk"

"Aren't you meant to be sick, Ben told everyone that you got sick"

"Nah," Was Doyle's flippant reply. "I just hurt myself going down the stairs, we just overestimate how bad it was"

"You might want to go to Mitchell to explain that." Caldwell attempted to divert him by giving an actual good piece of advice to him.

Doyle just stood there, squinting at me as if I was the one mooching off of the kindness of Ben and Mitchell. It wasn't as if he was a good writer even.

"Don't think this is over," He warned her. "I see you so much as sniff around anyone else's desk without permission from them, Mitchell gets the word and you have to deal with him" She found to be a feeble treat, but was enraged at the act all the same.

With that the moocher left, no doubt off to see Mitchel, he was a fake but didn't lie about the small stuff like that. Still, that proved that he didn't keep any work at his desk for her to find. It was starting to piss her off, no one could be this good at keeping their info to their chest this early in their reporter career.

Perhaps she should be going at this from another angle. If she could leak the things he was writing about then perhaps she could get rid of him. He was under a fake name, she was sure, she would just have to find proof of it. Even if she couldn't, she'd only need fake it.

Soon she would be able to prove to everyone else that he was a fake. Then her career of leaking stories to the right bidders would be back on track.

There was a room, in this room sat a woman. She had red hair and pale skin, she was the last of her breed. A group of super soldiers working to destroy a certain man for their leader. The others had all gone the way of a balloon. Their old leader as well.

But not all was bad, she was now in a higher position in the organization that was ever possible before, all thanks to the process of elimination. Now she ran the security for what was left of one the most technologically advanced groups in the world.

While it was true that they had lost their most intelligent members at the same time as most of their super soldiers, that didn't mean that they hadn't advanced since them. Where before they only matched the level of Tony Stark, now they outmatched him and was all thanks to the same incident that gave her this position. The was only one thing that they lacked.

Funds.

They were running out of money to finance themselves, they wasted it on the last project and being that most of them were fugitives, their situation seemed hopeless. That was until a ring came from the phone at her desk.

"What is it," She practically glowed red, looking like would happen if you stuck a blub behind a sheet of paper. "I told you not to disturb me if it wasn't good news"

"Really," Her skin shimmered down, a smile now stretched out on her face. "That is interesting, tell Mr. Welsey that we would be interested in dealing with that for his employer if the price is right," She stood up now, her energy was too much now for her to sit still. "We aim to please after all."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Okay the first was going to be longer but then I remembered that Nobu and Gao are both only speaking their native tongues at the moment so there wasn't much I could do for that, so instead I went for the aftermath of the scene and just explained the important details. I hoped that it hadn't been too abridged for people.**

 **Pat has discovered a new power. Flight, well floating, he hasn't got the experience yet with the power to turn that to flight. Since he now actually knows about his powers he is coming up with ideas about where they come from, and there is a reason for them.**

 **I have finally given Caldwell a slight pov, I hope I gave her some depth to her character because she didn't have any in the show. I wanted to have an actual reason to dislike him, so I hope that came across.**

 **AIM has come forward to mess with things, how will they fare against the Blueman, what advances have they made to make them think that they have surpassed Tony Stark, or do they only think that they have. Who is the red-headed leader of their security? These are all questions that I have the answers to.**


	8. Heating Up

Author's Note: Okay, it's play time.

* * *

I was dressed in a spare blue hoodie, what was left of the spandex suit, the white domino mask and a backpack that carried my regular clothes. Walking along a rooftop, stalking my unaware prey. He was a short man with a little red spot of heat in his jacket that I could see with my thermal vision, I had been looking into where the Irish stored their weapons, well their exotic weapons and discovered this man was an Irish Mafia member named Sean Leary.

Word on the street from what I have been able to glean is that Sean minds a stock of exotic weapons when their not in use. That was to smash the place once I found it so I could at least force to waste the resources replenishing them, then call the cops, get out of sight.

Eventually, they have to run out of money to buy these weapons. Right?

I had plans that involved more of these Irish weapons deposits across the city, Matt had told me over the phone that he was putting the nail on one on the other side of the Kitchen, he knew what he was doing. Since this time they will have no idea that he coming.

I had learned my lesson from the last time I went at this by myself, having brought a burner phone and digital camera to take photos of the crime scenes as they happen, setting the thing on a timer. I was taking a page from Spiderman, well not the Spiderman of this universe because Parker doesn't seem to be sending photos to the Bugle. Which might mean good things for that kid.

From my position above Leary, I could see him enter a building across the street from me. Thankfully I could still make him out in the building from others there, the red in his jacket marking him in my eyes. He was going over to the back of the building.

I floated over the street and landed the building he had entered with the grace that showcased the new mastery of my power. This allowed me to keep a better eye on this fellow. The man walked out the back door of the place, his pace was even but I had the feeling that he knew that I was following him.

Leary was briefly in a parking lot as he shoved himself into a car, then blasting out of the park and onto the road. It was a good speed for such an old car. I started to roof leap after the car, keeping my eye on him but not feeling the need to be close to him.

He was followed until he reached a restaurant, Burren Club. I set myself down on a nearby roof, hungry for some action but exercising some caution. I had learned about this place before, it was commonplace for the Kitchen Irish to met but it was too well known to hold the weapons I was looking for.

So instead I waited, I sat down on a rooftop and waited for two hours, and that was when Leary left the restaurant. This time he was with three others, with my vision I could make out bulges to the back of the coats, no doubt hiding conventional pistols. They drove off in Leary's car, heading back in the direction the man had come from before entering the bar.

I continued to follow them, hoping that this time he would lead me to the weapons I was searching for. The car was going slower this time, so there were times I just let my momentum carry my floating body along with their car's path. Eventually, they came upon a small store.

It went by the name of O'Leary's Wares. Cute.

The trio entered the place, the attitude on them was so joyful that I was surprised that they didn't break into song. Once they went to the back of the store I copied my earlier action and floated over there. Keeping an eye on Leary's heat signature I found them sitting around a table.

But I also found odd cold spots, just two piles of something that had just a pillar of heat in the center of their mass, they were at the back of the store. I decided that those might be the plasma guns like that one that hit me at the pier.

So with a gentle fall, I landed in the alleyway behind the store, there was a backdoor for the store. I gently tied the door, thankfully for stealth reasons the door was unlocked. If this was the state of the security that they left their best equipment in, then it was no wonder why they were being kicked out of the Kitchen before this.

With my thermal vision activated I saw that no one that was in the building was anywhere near me or the possible weapons. I crept up to the things, out into a hallway and down into a room where the odd heat spots were. I entered the room and was somehow proved both wrong and right.

It was some sort of exotic weaponry, in two piles, but it did not match any I had seen before. The guns looked similar to the last one, except these are smaller and somehow even more like someone had built them from scrap. There were no wires or tubes on the outside of these but you could see the points where the device was welded together from separate sheets from metal.

I picked one up, looking at it, I found the same thermal reading with the heat in the center and the rest is just a cold radiance. Thinking about it I wondered what would be the best way to break these things, I stowed it into my bag, then picking up three between my two hands. I squeezed and bent the barrels. This act caused a lot of noise, no doubt attracting a lot of attention from the Irish goons.

So I made quick work of as many as I could. Twisting and bending, always being careful not to go near what I thought was the power source. Eventually, a thug arrived on the scene, a bottle of some sort of covered drink in his hand.

"Hey," The man yelled, his drunken slur proving his drink for me. "What you doing in here?"

I could see more heat signatures running down the hall.

"Fixing Hell's Kitchen's gun problem," I told him, smirking at him from under my hood. The thug looked down at their mostly destroyed supply of exotic firearms. Then he looked up at my hand, there was a barrel that had snapped in half there, then his drunken mind came to a conclusion.

"It's the BLUE ONE!"

He turned to close the door in my face, but I just shoved my hand through it grabbing him and throwing him into a wall, now he was unconscious. I decided to meet any enemies head-on, with all their strange weapons behind me, I didn't have too much to worry about, still would have to keep my head on straight. Never know what's up ahead.

Two men came at me armed with an aluminum bat each, they struck with a precision that was impressive. I feel a ripple in the air as with a hand for each bat I caught them. Then before they could think to let go, I threw them into the ceiling and knocked them out.

Stepping over their bodies, I was approached by Leary with a shotgun, he aimed at me and fired. With the small dimensions of the hall, one would think that I would have a hard time getting out of the way, but he aimed for the center of my mass, meaning that I could just duck. I swept the gun from under his arm span.

Taking the gun from his grasp, I crushed the barrel in my hand and shoved Leary onto the ground. I quickly went into his coat pocket, Leary's phone now in hand, I found that the man did not lock his phone. I dialed 911.

"Hello," I pinched my nose, making my voice is nasal sounding as possible. "Yes, I would like to report some gunfire," I quickly rattled off the address, stepping out to the front of the store I came bursting through a door shoving the door into an empty aisle.

The Irish men that were in this room were not expecting me to just throw the door off the hinges, they had prepared themselves with shotguns and pistols. I ran around the store in a burst of speed, hitting the men down onto the floor. Once they were dealt with, I jumped through the front store, walked over to the door and threw it off its hinges. Then I took from my backpack, a few spray paint cans, and with them and my super speed I left my new signature.

A blue sun with three sets of lines coming out to the three corners of the large white diamond shield.

That was when I began to hear the whine of Police sirens, this was the time for me to leave now. The damage I did to the people in the store will at least have them search through the place. That should mean that they will find the illegal exotic weapon stash they were hiding in the back.

With that I leaped back up to the rooftops, rising above them and then floating down on them. I had other things I could be doing right now that needed my attention, like sleeping. I had to be at work tomorrow at 8 AM and it was already about 1 AM, not the best sleep schedule if I wanted to stay proficient at this for long.

So with my momentum carrying me, I went my way home, soaring across the rooftops with no difficulty, the wind threatened to take the hood off my head, which given the height I was at and the mask I was wearing underneath was not too big of a deal.

I decided to turn around so that I could look at the city as I passed it by, but found the buzzing of an aerial drone following me. It was certainly more advanced than any drone that I had seen before, it didn't have any obvious flight apparatus and was a dark blue, no doubt to help it camouflage at night.

It snapped some pictures with a noticeable snap, and then glowed brightly for a few seconds, before blasting off away from me, I was not going to let that go without searching for it. Keeping my eye on the rapidly fading drone, I shoved myself onto a roof and leaped after it with as much force as I could.

I was now following it, keeping pace behind the oddly straightforward thing. I would think that they would have given directions to zigzag so that people will have trouble following like I am doing now. It started to rise and lift onto the roof a tall building.

This wasn't part of New York I was familiar with, I'm sure that if I was to look at a street sign I would be able to find where I am but I had more important things to worry about than street addresses. I soared up and landed on the roof, the drone was still there. It buzzed about.

"Hello," The drone suddenly gained speakers and started to buzz about me. I kept my eye on it. "You must be the new vigilante on the scene, the Blueman"

It was a woman's voice and as a response to what she was saying I looked down at my suit, looked back to the drone. I came to a decision.

"I thought this was red," I told, in what was no doubt my worst attempt to vain honesty. "Someone should have told me, I truly have no friends"

"Cute," Was her curt reply. "Still I didn't expect for you to catch my drone when I sent it to spy on you, how interesting"

"You're being really upfront with this," I raised a brow in confusion, there was something wrong here, I would have to keep on guard. "This isn't just a random spot?" I questioned the drone, turning on my thermal vision. Oh, now there's the trap, it was a trio of people coming to up the stairs, a trio of the literally hottest people I had ever seen.

"Oh, you've seen right through my lies," There was a bit of a cheeky tone from the woman as if she was so proud of this trap. The three busted through the door of the roof with all the grace a bull. "If all goes well, we'll be seeing each other, ta" With that, her voice left and the trio attacked.

They were fast, faster than any person I had met since arriving here, but I was still too fast for them to keep up with. I weaved around their blows, gently thumping one in the chest and through the doorway, they came from.

Another managed to grab me from behind, so I just grabbed their wrist and snapped it throwing them to the ground. The third glowed a brilliant light red and opened his mouth to let out a massive plume of fire.

I sidestepped the flames only to be tackled by the man I had sent through the door. He didn't affect my positioning but it allowed for the one with the snapped wrist to jump at me from behind. The two grappled with me attempting to hold me down in this place, they started to heat up and soon it felt like I was holding a hot cup of coffee.

Sadly for them, I could lift a lot more than they weighed.

I effortlessly flexed my muscles and threw them off, but that just gave them enough time to get the last man a shot with that fire-breathing power hitting me right in the chest. I closed my eyes waiting for what I thought was the pain of being burned again.

Then I looked.

The fire was just harmlessly bouncing off my skin as if I was just being hosed. I walked through the fire to my attacker, with each step I took he glowed brighter and his flames got hotter. Soon I was so close that I could see his eyes, and they had gotten so bright that I thought they were spotlights instead of eyes. When I had finally got close enough to thump this guy.

He exploded.

That had finally knocked me on my back, looking up at the night sky. I leaped back to my feet, started to look for my remaining attackers only to find that they had disappeared. Gone with nothing the blast marks on the rooftop to prove otherwise. I took out my camera and took some pictures of the area, it could be useful to find out who these people were.

* * *

"How interesting," A man sitting on a chair told a redheaded woman on a chair the other side of his desk. He was a posh looking man, a clean suit and a Brazilian accent counted for his voice. "What do you make of this Rebbeca"

"The subject's strength outmatches any of our enhanced men, sir." Was her reply.

"No, I meant do you see his inexperience," He explained, sighing at the head of his security. "The way he winced at that blast even though it turned out not be able to harm him, the boy doesn't really know what he is capable of"

"We can use that to our advantage, sir," Rebecca was quick thinking, she already thought of how to use this weakness. "We send Project Ti, with what we've observed its current operator should be able to take him down, no problem"

"Good," The man stood up, started to walk out the door but stopped. "Oh and Rebecca?"

"Yes, Mr da Costa"

"Prioritise live retrieval, if we can study his body then I don't care how much Fisk is paying us to kill him"

"Yes sir," With that, she quickly went to work compiling the resources necessary to do the task.

Roberto da Costa could only grin, his plans could only be enhanced by the presence of this Blueman. It was good that he had managed to acquire what was left of Killian's organization before it burned by SHIELD. To think that path to such advanced science would only cost a measly billion, still, it left him in need of funding, hence the accepting bounties to kill people for people like Fisk.

But that would change when he manages to complete his plans.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So I imagine that some of you are confused by this latest character introduced, and the fact that he hasn't the same morality that his comic counterpart has. That will be explained in the story as it goes along.**

 **But in essence, he's serving a role that I feel that no other character could, and that is important. What his goals are going to surprise some.**

 **I hoped that this chapter showcased a better showing for the Blueman than the previous ones did, he has improved, learned from the early mistakes. Here we are also introduced to his new heroic symbol because at heart Pat is still a child who has always wanted to have his own symbol. What do you guys think?**

 **Also, I would like to thank user J Carl Henderson on spacebattles who created the Logo. its the one used for the cover. Thank you for reading and please review.**


	9. Home and Work

**Author's Note: The person that is known as the author would like to be called, The Master OP. It means nothing but at the same time. Implies that I am a supervillain. In less random nonsense, I would like to thank everyone for the help with their criticism of the logo. It is always great to have input.**

* * *

It was some time in the day and Jim was following his superior Wesley. They were walking to some sort of meeting, It was his job to watch his back and ensure that nothing happened to him, it was very important to Mr. Fisk that his second was safe from any threat. There were no excuses.

The man waved at him, wanting to speak to speak to Jim. There had been numerous talks between the two since he started, most of the time was just asking after the family, sometimes it was about whatever was on the news that day. Then there a short list of time that dived into topics that left the father feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"Mr. O'Reilly," Wesley polished his glasses. "I was wondering something about your time with the Irish"

"What is that sir?"

"Would it be possible to for you to find out where the Irish are getting their new guns?"

"It would be dangerous," The bodyguard told him, scratching his chin in thought. "I would have to talk to right people, get them while they're alone," Jim didn't really like the idea though, his former group weren't the type to take that kind of thing lying down if they were to find out about it. "What the boss want with that know how?"

"It's quite simple, Mr. Fisk wants to make this city a better place," Wesley started to wave his hand, as that would make his statements grander. "To do that we need to get these weapons off the street and attention off the area"

"And you want me to be the one to do that?" Jim did not like where this conversation was heading. He didn't want to go against his old employers. Not for moral reasons but for not wanting to poke at the snake nest that the Irish Mafia represented. "I think that's a bit too dangerous for a nobody like me Mr. Wesley"

"Oh no," His superior let out a surprised gasp. "We would never put you such a directly dangerous position, we just would like you to get us some names, we'll deal with the rest"

It wasn't a bad deal there, as long as he kept his name from going out that he was the one supplying names, then he would be pretty safe from them retaliation from them. There was already a few names that were popping into his head, Mickey O'Hare would know about them. He at least had his fingers currently in that kind of work, that was how Jim got his old shotgun that the masked freak had crushed.

"I could do that sir, it would take some care and I would need to keep my head down for a bit after the supply was hit but it is very doable"

"Good," The glasses wearing man wiped his glasses on some fine cloth. "I know that you'll be proud of the bonus that you'll receive from this," They resumed their walk to through the building. "How about we send you home early so that you start that work early in the morning, we can have someone else fill your usual role Mr. O'Reilly in the meantime"

There was a smoothness to Wesley, it allowed him to be both threatening and charming at the same time. This was a quality that attracted him to the employ of Wilson Fisk. It allowed him to get results that others couldn't, to threaten people while leaving onlookers completely unaware of the context that conversation really had. That was what terrified Jim the most.

With the end of the talks that meant Jim could leave and head home. His family had moved out of the small apartment they had lived in while he was in his previous job to a more luscious suite that Fisk owned under a different name. It was a speciously high rise for a man of Jim's position but apparently, the boss thought of him as a long-term investment.

Jim walked through the doorway of the apartment, his wife sat there in a chair seemingly waiting for him, her clothes were of a fine designer quality but had ceases on them that belayed her inexperience with that wearing these kinds of clothes.

"Jim," She exclaimed, her voice jumping up. "You didn't tell me that you'd be coming home so early," There was a question on her lips, a worry that he had screwed up or something bad had happened.

"It was just a slow day Regina, so they let me go home early," Jim looked around the shiny, clean room, still finding the place a shocking contrast from his previous homestead. "Where's Louise?" He asked after his daughter who according to him had the name of an angel.

"Where else, she's in her room playing her Xbox or something," Was the rather nonchalant reply she had.

Jim strode his way towards said room, there was a weakness to his walk that wasn't there before now, a shake in his right leg that caused him to stumble every fourth step. An injury that had still not healed.

"Angel, you not to busy to see your old man," He knocked on her closed door, rattling the door with the force of small mouse.

"Dad," She yelled through the door. "Just come in," There was an exasperation to her voice, as her father was always delaying his actions through meandering sentences.

With that, he entered his little girl's room. There was a series of posters on the wall, there were multiple manga posters, with franchises that he didn't recognize but some that he did. Like DragonBall and One Piece. She also had an array of consoles lined up against a wall, each tucked into square shelves. It went from a PS2 to an Xbox One X. Her room walls were a mostly warm green color with some lighter colors from her own things filling the room. The posters on them caused a certain amount of annoyance from her mother's OCD with such things. Louise herself sat on her bed, that had a blue and white scheme that clashed with the walls.

She was an older teen, she looked at least 16 and at most coming to 17. She was wearing a heavy jumper with the words in massive font 'DO NOT READ THE NEXT SENTENCE' and in that next sentence in smaller font 'You Little Rebel, I like you'. Her hair was a blood red and her eyes were light brown. She was somehow taller than her father at nearly 6-foot 7-inches, Louise towered over her father as if the nearly 6-foot man was just a taller child. Most have been a recessive gene.

"Your home early Dad?" Louise questioned her father with an innocent curiosity. "Slow day at work."

"Something like that," He sighed, sitting down on an office chair that Louise had brought earlier to sit on while streaming video games. "I just wanted to see how you were handling the move"

"As well as I was the last four times you asked me." She told him, there was a fond version of her earlier exasperation.

"I know, I just want to make sure that you know that if you have any problems you can come to me or your mother, after all, you're our number-"

"One priority," Louise interrupted him, a smile on her lips. "Honestly Dad, sometimes you smother me"

Jim smiled at her, soft in demeanor but with a sad edge to it. He stood up from the chair with a groan showcasing his aches to daughter accidentally as his face grimaced, Jim shuffled himself to the door when her voice called out to him at the doorway.

"You didn't notice?" He turned to look at her. "The newest frame on the wall"

Jim looked at through all the frames on the wall once more. Through the Dragon Ball poster and past the One Piece was a single new paper article titled, "Hero, Father of One". It was that article about him from the New York Bulletin by that Doyle fellow. The largest smile came to the father's face, it was as large as a good banana and glowed just as bright.

"I just to keep that up to remind me"

"About what?" Was her old man's teary reply as she walked up to him. Towering over she gave a large eclipsing hug, which basically engulfed him her rather tall arms.

"That my Dad's a legit hero, I'm so proud of you Dad"a

* * *

I was back in the warehouse, the final few days was upon it now and I wanted to get the last few days training that I could get out of the place. I stood there with a lighter and a pile of torn clothes that I had fished out a garbage pile recently. Then I let them on fire.

The warehouse's fire alarm had been taken out of commision at some point, so I brought a fire extinguisher with me in case I couldn't blow out the fire. This was the scene that Ben had walked in on. Me attempting to blow out the raging flames of the massive amount of clothes as if they were candles on a birthday cake.

For the first blow, nothing happened. The flames stayed where they were, unmoving and uncaring to the breath coming out of my lips. Like I had a cheap fan from a dollar store. For the next for blows of breath from my lips caused increasingly better results. I repeated the motion again, and again until I was out of breath. I dug in deeply and then tried for another go.

The flames started to wobble in that manner that usually meant that the person should blow harder. I took a deeper breath this time, I could feel that this one was how to do this, that I would finally unlock the power to freeze things by breathing really hard on them.

Then I loud bang as the door was open, I was left there staring as Ben ran over the warehouse floor with a fury that would send the criminals that I faced out of the building screaming.

"What the hell are you doing!" He yelled out at me, grabbing the extinguisher off the floor and taking out the flames with a quickness that showcased why he got to some of his stories first. "This place could have gone up Pat!"

"Nah," I told, confident in my ability to handle the fire that I caused. "If I could blow the flames out with freeze breath I had the extinguisher within my range to deal it if got too big for comfort"

"Any fire is too big for my comfort," Ben visibly shifted his tie, displaying a certain amount of stress he was currently feeling. Not that I could blame him, some lunatic was starting fires around him. "Look, I just wanted to talk to you about something important"

"Of course, you can tell me anything Ben"

"Good," He sighed the grey in his bread showing his age more than I had noticed in these past few months. "Mitchell has offered me something of a promotion"

"That's great, but I am sensing there must be a problem otherwise we'd be out having drinks celebrating"

"Right, it would mean working over people doing soft pieces, which is a respectful job but-"

"It's not what you're in for"

"Right, but with Doris's rising medical bills I need this job or she gets kicked out of the hospital"

I understood his problem, he would, of course, take this job that wasn't the issue. His wife's life is more important than making sure his work life feels fulfilling but at the same time to Ben, this would feel like he would stop making that important difference. Stop taking down scumbags and helping people couldn't speak out the crimes committed against them, he would at least feel like he was failing people by doing this.

"That's tough," I told him, walking up to him and placing an arm on his shoulder. I knew from previous attempts that Ben wouldn't expect any help from me in terms of money and I didn't have enough experience to give him any advice.

"So I need you to take over this story for me, I don't care who tells it just needs to get out there, I was investigating with this young woman" He sighed. "I tried to get her to back off, the story is much too dangerous for her to be rutting around in with no care for who spots her but she's a stubborn one"

"You want me to keep an eye on her make sure doesn't get in over her head?"

"That's the gist of it," He walked around the pile of still smoking clothes. "I have a feeling that this will be like the blind leading the blind because you are just as reckless as she is"

"I will take that as a compliment but since your handing me this story then the danger must be pretty big," I was aware that while I was lower profile journalist than Ben was so when he dropped this, people watching were less likely to look at me. "But yes, I will look after her to the best of my abilities"

"Don't take any stupid risks with this," Ben started to tell me. "We live in the same apartment, so any bigs waves you make will still make their way back to me"

With that, we began to discuss the story in earnest and all the details. From the lady's, Karen Page, involvement to names of the big players the two had managed to uncover at this point. That story that Ben had written a while ago had been the source that they had linked back to a name that sent a familiar chill down my spine, one that I had in my brief searches found no proof of their existence in this world before now. A renowned villain that I was most familiar of from the nineties Spiderman cartoon, the one known as the Kingpin Of Crime. Wilson Fisk.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Things are happening at a weird pace in the story, I know that they don't, they as in Ben and Karen don't learn his name until after Matt does, in fact, I think was three episodes after he did, but here things have been moved around. Blueman's involvement has shifted things around so that Fisk can't make his move yet because taking out the Russians will only have the Irish take over at the moment.**

 **At the same time Ben and Karen met off-screen, it went largely the same so I didn't write it. There are some differences, obviously, they were able to find more out quicker than they originally did but that is because of how distracted the more competent enemies were by the two vigilantes and the Russian/Irish War happening. So they have only really been noticed now, well Ben has that is, and he is getting out in only the loosest sense because he will still be mentoring Pat on how to investigate this story.**

 **On Jim's daughter Louise, how many were expecting a little girl instead of an older teen we got here. I had this image of her in my head the second I thought of Jim's daughter. Obviously, the side of her here is just one side of her personality because as Jim first appearance implies she gets everything she wants and is protected against all the worst parts of life. So you can imagine what she is actually like out of this scene.**


	10. Investigations & Assassinations

_**Author's Note: Now we're playing with power, SOLAR POWER**_

* * *

She followed him, walking slowly at several meters behind him so as not to be spotted. There weren't a lot of hiding places around that could allow her to go unnoticed. The attempt to go unrecognizable by wearing different clothes from usual was made but that could only go so far as to hide her unique features. Every time he turned around she ducked her head down and continued walking forward, trying to be nonchalant. It was turning out to be a longer walk than she thought, he wasn't taking any buses and had already been walking for several minutes.

Then the man just inside a lunch joint, having some sort of complex submarine sandwich, it had ham, it had pineapple, mustard, it had cheese and it had some kind of chicken/fish combo. Altogether the meal looked rather vile, oozing the mustard over the table with a slobbish delight. Eventually, he left the joint, could back on the path and started walking down the road again. The number of people on the street increased, making her target a bit harder to see but providing better cover to her to trail him.

Her impatience was starting to show, if he didn't get to wherever he was going, then she was just going to reveal herself to him damn the consequences. This endless walking just pissed her off. Then he suddenly entered an alley, was the this the moment she was waiting for? She peered around the corner, her head just passing over the world that the man had headed down.

That was when she saw him once more, Jim O'Reilly. He was there talking to a man in a beat-up coat, and crooked glasses, his hair was nothing but a messed up pineapple. Jim was handing a big wad of cash to the other smaller man.

She strained her hearing, hoping to overhear the topic the two was quietly discussing in that alleyway, there was barely enough sound to make out the words but she could just about see their lips. This allowed her to use a rarely used gift of hers, reading lips.

"Some guy around queens," The unnamed fellow told Jim. "Heavy duty stuff Jim, frankly that kind of hardware scares me"

"I didn't know any dealers that deal with the level in that area," Jim scratched his chin in thought. He walked around the smaller man. "Must be a new guy, how long has he been operating, Frank"

"Couldn't tell you," The other man shrugged, his shoulders going to his chin. "The big guys are keeping the rest a secret and I don't want to be the guy to find out and leak it"

"That's fine," The Father between the two told Frank. "You've given more than enough to get started, I'll see you around Frank."

"We'll get drinks the next time"

With that, She ducked back around the corner and started to walk away from the two. Her thoughts racing along to match her heart. She quickly found a bench to sit on, her mind started to piece together certain elements but she knew that she was still missing some of the pieces.

She stared up that the clear skies, the blue up there contrasting the color brown in her eyes. Then she took deep breaths, filling her lungs with the energy necessary to fulfill her next function.

"What are you doing Dad?" Louise let out a deep sigh, covering her face in her hands. "You're meant to be legit now"

She would get to the bottom of this and she does, then there will be words between her and Dad.

[hr]

When she arrived at the diner to meet with Ben's apprentice Karen wasn't sure what to make of the human in front of her. It wasn't that he was messy while eating but it was just how oddly clean he was eating even though he was eating a mile a minute. It reminded her of a sped-up video of a tree being put through a woodchipper, except without the mess of wood that the machine would leave in its wake. From the look on Ben's face, she was sure that this was a common occurrence. That kind of scared her more than the big conspiracy she was trying to uncover. This guys aptitude and speed for food could have fed a small village.

"So," Doyle gulped down a glass of Diet Coke with all the same speed that he used to eat. "Ben was saying that we're looking into this guy, pulling a You-Know-Who"

"What," Karen replied, more confused by the Harry Potter reference than anything else. " You think he's hiding his name because he wants to be scary?"

"Yup," He gulped down another take of Coke. Then looking at Ben he asked. "What do you think?"

"I agree, he making himself out to be a big boogeyman"

"He's turned himself into a legend," Doyle leaned back into his chair. "Into a symbol of fear and corruption, wouldn't be a big surprise to find that he has half the nearby station on his payroll."

It was a dangerous situation that she had found herself in but she wasn't going to give up on this just because some fat suit wanted to be felt and not heard. She was going to expose this monster if it was the last thing she did.

"What's your plan," She asked Doyle, thinking that he must have some kind of unique mind that Ben wanted to include him. "How do we play this?"

"Same as you two were running before," At her confused face, Doyle had a waitress refill his glass of coke. "We find proof that he exists and expose him"

"But we know he exists now, why don't can't just release that knowledge now?"

"We can't print hearsay, and that is all we have right now, no one will believe us and the ones that do would be the people trying to kill us"

"I understand, when the story gets out we want to be able to take him down in one strike"

"Exactly we can't give any indication that we have him and give him no time to recover, one shot, one kill"

"I will leave this to you two for now," Ben stood, threw a few bills to cover his meal and prepared to leave. "My new position means that I have to spend more time in the office now, have to watch over some people typing for a few hours." The excitement in his voice showed the pure loathing he had for the position, she wondered why he took the job if he hated it but felt that it wasn't any of her business.

"Okay," Doyle leaned forward on the table, catching her attention away from the departing Ben and back onto his still somehow eating form. "We need to find some sort of weak spot that we can pick on, who do we know to work for him right now?"

"Well, we know that he had his fingers in Union Allied which was had its assets brought by Confederated Global Investments, which we believe is a front for Fisk"

"Good," That was when the two's phones rang. "I'll get mine outside, you can have inside"

With that, the journalist exited the diner to have a talk with whoever was on the other line. While Karen had a talk of her own with Foggy. It was about this client that they now had, a Mrs. Cardenas. She was being kicked out of her home and Matt had sent Foggy to Landman and Zack law firm to see what could be done at that end, while Matt was checking at the local police station to see if they could get the list of complaints against the landlord kicking Cardenas out of her home.

"Of course I will go with you, Foggy," Karen told her Boss/friend. "Just let finish my lunch and I will head right over to meet you"

Meanwhile on the outside of the diner was a different sort of business call taking place.

"How did you get this number?" Pat asked his caller.

"I listened to the right people," Matt replied at the other end. "But that is not what is important right now"

"Oh, then what is?"

"I was at the police station gathering some files for a case," The lawyer took a deep breath. "When I overheard some of an interrogation where this Russian was giving some big wig"

"So that happens all the time," Was Pat's easy replay. "He's going for a plea deal, get his sentence reduced, and another scumbag gets put away." It was a simple win in the reporter's mind.

"Well the cops killed him and faked an attack on themselves to get away with it"

Oh, that was bad. It called for a level of corruption that Pat hadn't thought the city had reached yet. Whoever the big wig was he would have to be made of money for the cops to be willing to give this big of a chance to be caught doing this in a station.

"Okay then do we have a name at least?"

"Yes, from what I heard it was Fisk"

This was pretty big, if he could find the Russian Fisk connection then he could find people who were aware of the man existing, him existing and being linked to crime could allow him to reverse the link back to Confederated Global Investments and then to Union Allied. One man talking could break the entire criminal empire that Fisk had hidden from the public view.

"Well, that is at least some good news," Pat told him, his spirits elevating with this sudden lead, even if the news of the dead man dampened it somewhat.

"What is good news?"

"We have two men now that we know for sure are aware of Wilson Fisk," He told the lawyer with energy seeping through his actions. "That's a bigger lead than I had yesterday"

"What? You're already looking into the guy," There was surprise exuding through Matt's voice. "What got you interested?"

"Ben my mentor, so to speak, was already looking into it and he brought me on board"

"That is pretty good news to me, so what do you have on him?"

From there the two went through all the knowledge that the trio had gone over in the diner again. It was eventually decided that the two would meet later that night after Matt had gotten some more info from his contracts, so they could pile together their resources. From there the two would decide on their next move.

"Look, Matt, I have to finish this lunch and then I will head over to you so that we can regroup"

With that, the call ended and Karen came running out of the diner, having finished her talk with the other half of Nelson and Murdock. The two came within inches of crashing into each other.

"Sorry," They spoke in unison. "I have to go, that was an important matter that I have to deal with."

There was a silence between them for a second as they both realized that they had said the exact same thing. Then the two chuckled awkwardly at each other before nodding away at each other and agreeing to meet up in the future to plan out this investigation and pile together research.

With Pat Doyle heading one way and Karen Page heading in the other direction, neither one knew that the jobs that they had just set each other would lead right back into the same direction as before.

* * *

There was a redhead walking out of a local airport, her high heels clicking off the pavement in a rhythm that was reminiscent of a pop song. This was Rebecca Wilton, head of AIM security. Following along her side was a tall man, more than six foot in fact and in a dirty suit, he of Eastern European descent.

"You know, Boris?" The lady asked the man following her.

"No, I don't know Madam Wilton" Was the stoic reply of Boris.

"I love being in New York, but I especially love getting my hands dirty and getting into fights."

"Oh," Boris was surprised all his other handlers were much more cringy about getting involved physically. If this attitude held true then he was glad to get rid of his last one for her. She had decided that this job needed a personal touch. "I think we will face a good challenge with this Blueman we have been sent after"

The arrived awaiting car, stepping through the doors with grace Rebecca sat down and wiggled her way to the other side of the car, making room for the bigger man. They sat in comfortable silence as their driver drove them to a pre-enclosed destination.

"What is the first step?" He spoke up breaking the silence with his question.

"First we meet with Fisk, to inform him that we will be dealing with the manner personally," She took a hand mirror and some deep red lipstick. Applying it to her lips in a soft manner. "Then we do some," She puckered her lips, making a loud pop sound. "Probing, find out some more details, set some bait and call for a hero"

This was only the beginning of their newest attempt to capture their target, their last attempt failed but that was because they had underestimated him. He was tougher than their previous data accounted for, but now as long as she plans this out correctly then it doesn't matter how strong he is. Once the trap is sprung he would belong to AIM.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: That was some chapter guys, there have been some changes to the events here that will cause an even bigger mess than before. This wasn't my longest chapter and I hope that the shortness of my chapter doesn't bother people if it does I will try to increase the word count.**_


	11. Metal V Metal

**_Author's Note: These are some notes for the story we have here guys. You can't see them but they're better than what you're reading._**

* * *

"You're late," The Blue vigilante told his darkened counterpart. "I thought that you said that you were here already"

"I said that I was on my way, not all of us can leap buildings in a single bound"

The two had met on a rooftop. It was in the middle of the night, below them was a warehouse that the Russians were using as an in-between and Matt had wanted some back up for his interrogation of either one of the Ranskahov brothers. This would be the first time for that Pat would see his fellow vigilante do this kind of work. It gives him a feeling of tension, he wasn't a big believer in 'enhanced interrogation techniques', so one would say that Matt inviting him to an interrogation he wants help in then he would have to have stronger morals than to use those sort of techniques. He hoped.

"So what's the plan?" The Blueman asked the Mask. "I don't see any exotic weapons in there but I feel like we should be going in there a bit more stealthy than the last time"

"That's normally how I would want it done but this time I need you to take the whole building down"

Pat removed his hood with all the force that it could take without breaking the fabric. His white domino had a newly added shaded layer to them, some kind of cheap plastic lens, the kind to keep out blue light to help with eye strain.

"What, wouldn't that kill the whole lot of them?"

"Only if they don't get any warning about it coming down, just yell a lot about it coming down while you do it"

"And what will you be doing in the meantime?"

"I," Matt started walking towards the fire escape. "Will be waiting for one of the brothers to come running out, while everyone else is distracted by your...rampage, I will be getting what we need on Fisk." With that the Kitchen native went out of sight, only with his visionary powers could the young blue vigilante see where he went.

"I have a feeling that he's kind of using me," Pat looked down at the building, his searching for the largest heat source. That was when he found something that he hadn't noticed before. He had been looking for weapons but it seemed like he forgot to look for the weirdos that he met the other day, now that he looked at the people inside of the building he found one those weird heat sources. "Well, I should drop in and say hello." He pulled his hood back on his head.

Then the young hero leaped with all the force of an elephant dropping on a mouse. His weight caved in the roof of the place, dropping into the room surrounded by a few dozen mooks. They were typically Russian men, carry pistols and submachine guns, nothing that was dangerous to him. It was then his eye was caught by a redhead in the center of the room.

She was wearing what could be described as a bright yellow jumpsuit, similar to the one worn by SHIELD agents, except with thin strips going along her arms. They glowed with a soft orange hue, Pat could feel the extra warmth they seemed to give out, he would take her out first.

Blurring straight at her, fist extended in an attempt to knock the woman out. She ducked the blow, bending over backward his fist slammed into the wall, the limb having been shoved right through into it.

"So straightforward," She cooed as the Russians around her were amazed at her agility. "For such a speedy man, you do tend to telegraph your movements, you're going to rush forward," She started pulling out a sidearm, some kind of futuristic looking pistol, pointing at Pat's chest. "You lean on your left leg"

She fired. Pat ripped his arm out of the wall, dodging the projectiles emitting out of the barrel. He grabbed a broken brick and flung at her weapon hand, smashing it into pieces and leaving her weaponless. She looked at the men around and smiled.

"The first man to take him down gets a personal favor from the big man"

A sad amount of Russians came rushing forward towards him, each was instantly knocked down by Pat's blazing fists. Soon instead of a mob of men, there was only a pile of them moaning on the floor. With this Pat turned his attention back to the woman that he was fighting earlier, she had somehow disappeared. He looked down and that was when he found her.

On the floor, just laying down, peering at the ceiling.

"That was slower than I expected, did you go easy on them?"

He didn't feel like answering his opponent, it was an attempt at keeping himself in control of the situation or least keep it away from her grasp. Pat did take in her voice, it was familiar, the vigilante had definitely heard it before, she was that same woman who had been speaking through that drone from the last time.

"I heard that you were more talkative than this," The lady yelled out loud as she slithered back to her feet. "Well-"

That was when Pat struck interrupting her monologue with a mighty thump to her stomach. This caused her to slam back into a wall and roll onto the floor. The redhead gasped for breath, holding her stomach due to the pain. She attempted to stand only to fall back down with a flop.

"So," The vigilante made sure to stay a certain distance from her. "Who do you work for?"

That was when she smiled, her teeth bloody from the last blow, then out her pocket and into her hand came some kind of cylinder with a single button on top. Her smile became a maniac one as the finger descended towards the button. Then all of the sudden it wasn't in her hand but in Blueman's, he started to throw between one hand and to another.

"What is this?"

"That is a decoy." She revealed.

The roof of the place got a new whole, a green glow dropped from the ceiling. It was an armored man, plating in a style not too dissimilar to Iron Man himself if the center wasn't just a glowing mess of green and the helmet looking a lot rougher than smooth Stark style. The figure was bigger than the average Iron Man suit, knocking in at about 7 foot 8 inches, whether that was an aspect of the suit or the man inside it Pat didn't know. What he did know was that it looked pretty cool.

"Who are you meant to be? Tin Man?"

"That's Project Ti," The still floored woman gloated. "Otherwise known as the…"

 **"Titanium Man!"** The suit rushed forward its boosters on the legs allowing to gain a level of speed that surprised the blue vigilante, catching him a clothesline that hit hard enough to flip to the floor. The Titanium Man came to a crashing stop, going through a wall with the ease of cutting paper, he flew straight back out the hole he made, ready to continue the brawl. That was when the fist of the Blue Man came crashing down, knocking back out through the wall.

"You only moved me," He taunted, wagging his finger at his downed opponent. "The Titanic movie could do that, frankly I'm not impressed." Pat shrugged his shoulders at the downed armored man. Titanium Man raised his hands and blasted beams at him, to which the vigilante dodged easily by shifting his upper body just a bit. Sadly for him, that was just a decoy, the real attack had come from the forearms, mini-missiles shot into the ground blowing the Blueman into the air.

"Feck." Was the only reply Pat was able to give as his position was shifted up into the air. A position that the Titanium Man was eager to exploit, he leaped into the air and grabbed the other man onto his shoulders. Then he body slammed him into the ground with all the force of a tank shell. A cloud of dust rose from the impact but the armored man was not finished with him yet, he repeated the action, again and again until his prey stopped moving. With that done he turned to his handler waiting on the floor nearby.

"Madame Wilton, I ha-"

"Done fucked up," He was interrupted by the man behind him, just as he was about to turn to face the Blueman again, his opponent had already grabbed him from behind, spun him around to face him and started to lay into him a barrage of punches that appeared as a blur of limbs and colors. Titanium Man started to feel his armor warp under the pressure it was being put in, if he didn't do something soon then he would soon have no weapon to use against him. As Titanium began to lift into the air from the raw force of the blows, he soon charged his center with fire like green energy and blasted Blueman into a wall.

"Finish him, Boris," Wilton yelled at him with all the urgency of a cat worried about being drowned. "Before he gets back up."

That was when a 9mm pistol smacked into her head, knocking her out. Before Boris could respond to his superior's situation the Blueman rushed him, smacking the two of them through a wall and out into the street. Lucky for Blueman the street was practically deserted at this point of the night. Sadly for him practically was not literally and a small young man had his phone out in seconds, ringing the police with all the subtlety of teen finding out about the birds and the bees. Then when he was finished that he ran back further away from the fight but still close enough for the camera on his phone to grab video footage of what was happening.

With seconds Pat was hitting the armor with savage blows, sending him into a new unoccupied car with each blow. The armored man responded with a singular beam blast from his hands before the emitters were smashed in by the vigilante, breaking not only the gauntlets but also Boris' hands beneath them.

"Who do you work?" The hooded vigilante screamed at his downed foe. His answer was a simple no. If by no you meant beam attack coming from the armor's chest piece. The Blueman was blasted back into what remained of the wall, his back cracking it with a sound that reminded the two fighters of crunchy corn flakes.

 **"Many more intimidating people than you, have tried to get Boris to talk,"** The larger man boasted, Pat could nearly feel his contempt for him in the words that he spoke. **"You little man doesn't stand a cold chance in hell"**

Cold. that was an interesting choice of words. It reminded Pat of the one Iron Man film he had watched, that come out some years before his arrival in this world. The early suits in that film had a problem, a problem that the Blueman could make a unique use of at this moment.

"Tell me?" Pat asked him running to the side of the Titanium Man. "How did they solve the ice problem." Before Boris could send another blast at him, he took a deep breath, his cheeks expanding from the effort and then he blew. The icy force of this first frosted the streets, then iced them along with all of the remaining car windows. Soon the slick metal armor became white in the ice itself and its movement became stiffer.

Then the young blue man walked slowly towards the still form of Boris, the chest plate growing brighter every second. That was when Pat shoved him to the floor, causing the blast that Boris was changing to be sent straight up into the sky. Then further ice breath was used on the still workable legs of the suit, freezing them until the gyros stopped working. The chest piece began to glow once more, Boris was rolling along the floor attempting to get an angle that would allow him to hit the blue vigilante. This was stopped from working anymore by the fingers that were now jammed in around the glowing center of the armor, they inched into Boris' power supply with the ease one has when cutting cheese.

"What is this?" Pat asked out loud, not really speaking to the man on the floor. "Seems familiar," He chuckled at Boris, who was still struggling in his suit. "Not just copying the suit are we"

With that, the Pat left him there, due to the man's seeming inability to move without a power source. He made himself back into the warehouse, through one of the massive holes he and Boris had left in it during the fight. Part of him was expecting for the Rebecca person to have escaped in the fight but thankfully for him, Matt had come deal with that issue, for she was tied up with some police straps and rope.

"He dealt with?" Matt asked of his nighttime colleague. "Because if not, I can't help you." The two shared an awkward chuckle, neither really understanding each other enough yet to share many jokes.

"He's not going anywhere without this." I held the still glowing circular power supply.

"What's that?"

"I think it might be an Arc Reactor"

Their talk was interrupted by the blaring of sirens. Matt picked up their captive, hoping that to get the knowledge he failed to get from the absent brothers out of this mysterious person. While the Blueman himself, keep a grip on the glowing piece of trouble firmly in his hand, thinking it was a far more important sign of things to come than his companion did. Because was a sign that soon the big boys would be coming and when they did Pat could only hope that he was strong enough to stand by himself.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Don't expect this to be the last we see of Boris. I imagine that many of you have guessed that he would be coming earlier, with the hint I dropped two or three chapters ago. I hope I did that fight some justice, it was after all the first generation of the Titanium Man suit that has appeared in this world. I partially based it on the design of the suit that appeared in the Iron Man games that came out several years ago.**


	12. Iron Sight

_**Author's Note: We return to a terrible world that our hero has found himself in. Learning**_

* * *

The duo of vigilantes dropped their captive on a rooftop more than a mile away from the warehouse that the fight had taken place. Matt stood up breathing heavily, having found the pace that the Blueman had set for them to be a bit much when they had managed to leave well before the authorities arrived.

Blueman was still mesmerized by the glowing blue reactor in his hand. There was something about this Arc Reactor that just grabbed his attention in a way that no other device had since arriving in this world, the energy it gave off resonated with him so deeply that he found that all his thoughts soon became embroiled in what he could do with the power this item could grant to the world or what it could allow him to do. That was when he looked at the lady in their grasp putting it away and facing the other two people on the roof.

"What are we going to do to her?" Pat asked his counterpart, his curiosity forcing him to do so.

"I can deal with her," The blind one of the two answered.

"Deal with her?"

"Look once I get the info I need about Fisk I'll let her go"

"The thing is that," Pat sighed. "She has definitely attacked me before, not personally but she sent some people after me"

"Then I will have to get that from her too"

"The people she sent had strength enhancement and fire powers"

"Ah," Understanding now filled Matt's posture. "You're worried that she's the same and will overpower me when she wakes up"

"I know she's at least faster than the people sent after me, so I better stick around for until we're sure"

"Then-" The dark-colored of the two pointed at the vigilante. "You should wake her"

The Blueman complied with the suggestion, gently smacking the woman in the face, causing her to faceplant into the ground. She spat out a wad of blood, crimson liquid pouring from her lips like water from a tap, rolling over until she smiled with pink teeth forming a smirk that reminded the duo of a snake about to eat a mouse.

"Seems that our two little would be Superheroes have caught me," Her eyes showed a great level of amusement at the situation. "Do you even know what you'll do with me"

"Oh, I have an idea." Matt slammed his foot down on her leg. There was no reaction from this, so he repeated the action twice. After the second time, she flipped onto her feet, what visible skin that could be seen then started to glow as she took in a visible breath.

That was when Blueman struck, having already taken in his own breath, he let an icy cold breath out instantly robbing her of the heat she was about to use. He grabbed her now frosty bound waists and threw her back to the ground. The force of this banging her head on the ground.

"So who do you work?" Blueman asked her with a strange amount of the gentleness for someone that had just savagely slammed another person into the ground.

"You haven't figured it out yet?" Wilton seemed almost confused by his lack of knowledge. She had a cruel smirk that seemed to display her "A quick google of superpowered pyros would have given you that answer"

"AIM?" Matt exclaimed surprise showing in the tone of voice. "I had thought that you guys were taken down by Stark years ago"

Pat thought about what he knew about AIM, he was sure that at some point in the comics they were lead by a floating head creature known as MODOK. Which didn't comply with what he read here, where they started out as a think tank and were eventually turned into a terrorist organization by Killian Jones. So not a group started as a Hydra research group.

"Why have AIM been targeting me?"

"Haha," Wilton laughed dryly at the blue vigilante's. "I'm not telling you that, what do you take me for?"

This was when Matt smacked her in the face with the tip of his shoe, shocking Blue and breaking Wilton's nose. The formerly plain black shoe of the Mask was now splattered in crimson as if someone had flicked red paint on it. She bent forward still on the ground but now properly looking at her capturers, her smile was still in place but now had a more maniac bent to it.

"Do you really think that I haven't been trained to withstand torture," At Blue's unsubtle shifting she laughed and turned to look more closely at him. "That's right this is torture, I wonder how a big blue superhero like you feels about that?"

There was a silence from the Blueman. It was one that told the other two just how uncomfortable he was with this experience. Pat didn't believe that torture even produced accurate results, he had been threatened into saying too many things as a child that he didn't do or mean that he believed that as a fundamental truth that the practice it could only produce information that is concurrent with whatever the integrator thinks in the first place.

"I think I'll just freeze you and leave you there," He eventually spoke up, walking to the side Matt with his arms leveled behind his back. "I imagine that as an AIM member you'd have some warrants for your arrest, all I would have to do is leave in front a station"

"I'd be free in a matter of hours"

"Sure but I imagine that Tony Stark has eyes out for AIM members, you only need to be in the system for one second," Pat snapped his fingers off in her face. "I don't think he'd be as kind as I am"

There was a moment where she looked from one vigilante to the next, trying to see if either one would break eye contact with her. It wasn't an empty silence for the sounds of traffic below them and sirens in the distance could be heard, this created an atmosphere of tension where Matt could hear her heart race. It went faster and faster as the tension rose to levels that Matt hadn't thought they would have without more violent actions.

"Well, I suppose that I'll leave you at-"

"WAIT!" She yelled stopping him from advancing any further. "What do you want to know? I'll tell you what I can but there are things that I can't tell you or I'd forfeit my life"

"Why are you guys after me?"

"What do you know about a man named Wilson Fisk?" There was a sly look on her face, the look of someone with an amazing idea.

* * *

Tony Stark looked over the scraps the government had handed over to him, well whatever they felt like handing to him. It was a shoddy but good work, it definitely looked like whoever made this knew what they were doing but they also hadn't come as far along as even the second Iron Man suit. In a way this work was embarrassing but there were several things that he couldn't figure out. Whether it was because the suits had taken parts that were too important or because it had been damaged in the fight that disabled it, but he couldn't figure it out.

"What did they use for a power source?" He whispered to himself.

Then he peered at the pieces of the arms that remained, a few smashed and cracked repulser pieces. There were a lot of improvements that could've been made here, he could see that with just regular visually inspection but he suspected that whoever made this suit didn't have access to the level of minimization for this type of tech that he had.

There were scratches and holes in the chest piece, to his experienced eye it looked like someone had just shoved their fingers into, he would have to look through the footage that one kid had given to them later to make sure. Either way that meant that the person who did it was definitely above what he'd seen from the former Captain America, he couldn't be sure but it definitely around what he had seen Thor do in the past, it was a freighting level of strength for some punk on the street to have.

"FRIDAY," Tony spoke catching the attention of his AI assistant. "Show me the footage that kid got of the fight"

The AI did so and Stark watched the brief amount of the fight with a growing concern, all the blasts that this Titanium Man suit sent at this Blueman just seem to shove him around, which while something repulsors are meant to do, it isn't what the unibeam is supposed to do. Soon the Blueman showcased another power, this time an Ice Breath, that explained how the vigilante disabled the suit so easily, the makers mustn't have dealt with the icing issue. Mightn't have assumed that the issue would come up, properly a bad design decision now with the value of hindsight. That was when he saw what the Blueman group member pulled from the chest of the Titanium Man.

An Arc Reactor

Then he saw that the Blue da guy peering at the reactor with the look of someone fascinated by its existence in the world. He twisted it from one hand to another, his look of amazement changed once he looked down the street, seemingly seeing his audience the vigilante walked off to where he came from leaving his powerless opponent on the floor. This news called for further investigating than he had prepared for.

Tony brought up a hologram of a few suits that he had in produced by waving his hand over a table, looking through them for the right one. Stark rubbed his chin in deep thought, compiling what he knew about this Blueman into a mental folder and comparing that to some of his suits. He needed one that had not only strength but also a higher range of ice resistance than his regular brute suits, it was a tough job but he was sure that this one was just the right suit for the occasion.

"Hey FRIDAY, give Rhodey a call," He told his AI. "I might need the back up if I want to keep this from getting messy"

* * *

Louise sat in the kitchen of the apartment, it was separate from the main part of the place by an island. She was on a silver high stool her feet reaching the floor with no difficulty whatsoever, waiting for her father to come home. Her Mother had already gone to bed as it was past midnight, leaving waiting for her Father's return. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to him once he arrived, was she going to confront or try to make him slip up and admit to whatever his new job was really about.

That was when Jim walked into the kitchen, his coat had dirty black and red smudges on it. He was wearing a hat that shaded his eyes away from view. He peered down at her setting position as if he was unsure of what he was seeing. Louise matched his stare with a better one that spoke of a anger she felt at Jim's eyes.

"Louise," He yelped in surprise as if he was in shock at his own daughter's appearance here in the kitchen. "What are you doing up this late?"

"Just waiting," She paused thinking about how to approach the subject. "How the job? It was late night?"

"Ya, Mr. Wesley wanted me to deal with some business and," He winced in thought. "It lasted longer than I thought would"

"That's too bad, what business was it?"

"Ehh," Her father lets out a deep breath in distress. "You know I just had to follow Mr. Wesley while he dealt with some construction deals, ensure that some of the seeder people didn't try to take advantage of him and ambush at the same time"

"Your time with the mafia must really help"

"Oh it did," He stopped realizing what he had said. "Look, let's just leave that kind of talk for the morning"

With that limited amount of interaction, he left his fuming little girl in the kitchen alone, stewing in her frustration. If her Dad wouldn't talk to her about this she would just have to force the situation to come to the surface. There would be a lot of disappointment emitting from this family in the future.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: I am really under the weather right now, so I imagine that once I feel better I will revise this chapter a bit. Any suggestions are welcomed. Can you guess what Wilton's about to do?**_

 _ **I'll have a bigger author's then, so any questions?**_


	13. The Ducks where all lined Up

**Author's Note: This might be a weird place to take the story at this point. So how about those local sporting teams, eh.**

* * *

The day started out with a glorious sunrise that filled Pat with a hope that was only magnified by the events of last night. The information that they were given on Wilson Fisk was futile, not usable in the court of law but it would lead them to info that could be used in that fusion and if not, he could still release it on the sly at least then people would know Fisk existed. That was when Pat looked at the TV.

He sat still fuming at the person on screen, the bald on the man was enraging him to a level that he hadn't thought possible before, he could practically feel his eyes start to burn, the arms of the chair he sat was cracking under the light strain he was putting it under. The info they had gotten off that AIM woman was worthless because of this.

"My name is Wilson Fisk," He stood there speaking with a microphone, his peering into the camera as if looking at me. "And I am a son of this city, I was born here, became a man here," His hand sought out and found a lady's beside of him. "I have had fortune fall upon me in recent years and I want to share it, to help make this city better." Fisk leaned back slightly waving to the man behind him.

"My name is Jim O'Reilly," Fuck. "You may remember me from an incident that happened a while ago involving a furniture store, and until recently I hadn't been living my life as the most righteous of fellows, but Mr. Fisk has given me the chance to be better, for myself and for my daughter," He took a deep breath. There were tears in his eyes. "And he wants that for this city, a city corrupted by gang warfare and violent thugs masquerading as heroes."

This was when the far larger Fisk took the speaking role back from Jim, he was the picture of serenity, his pose was as elegant as his attire. The TV's screen began to have a white spot.

"That is my dream, the dream that everyone working with me shares," He looked through the crowd of reporters in front of him. "We want to make this city a better place." The TV exploded, flames erupting from its formerly black frame. That was when Ben walked into the room, took one look at the TV and then at Pat.

"Your paying for that."

* * *

The newsroom was a hustle and bustle place of pure madness as Ben and Pat entered the meeting room for what would be the weekly meeting that would discuss who was doing to what for throughout the week. Everyone was the gathered around a large table, some like Pat, Ben and Mitchell had seats but others like Caldwell had to stand due to the sheer amount of people here because this was one of the busiest weeks and we needed everyone on board.

"Pat," Mitchell spoke up to him, having already given others their duties. "Since Ben isn't available for the work anymore for an event like the Fisk Fundraiser that is set for the end of the week you are doing it, and that is not negotiable"

"That's great! It will be a good continuation of my piece on O'Reilly." Pat smiled widely closing his eyes while facing Mitch, an attempt to keep his rage from boiling over and having my newly discovered Heat Vision.

"That's good." He told his worker awkwardly, haven expected Pat to react like his mentor would have to such news, he thought that it would be a fight. With that order of business over with everyone left the room as quickly as they had arrived into the room. Leaving the place as empty as Darkseid's heart.

Ben quickly walked up to Pat, matching his pace as they left the building, Pat to get ready for the Fundraiser and Ben so that it would he could go on his newly scheduled lunch break.

"Be careful," Ben told him, his face set in a frown. "If you're going to interview Fisk, don't say anything that could even remotely be used to sense your real motives out and make yourself as friendly as possible," He searched Pat's face for a sign of something. "I would say be yourself but your much too rude to people normally so don't be that, be Mitchell instead"

"How funny," Was the sarcastic response the mentor got. "You missed your calling, you should have gone for being a comedian," Pat turned around, walking backward so he could face Ben. "Afterall, Your writing is so bad it's funny"

"Oh," The elder responded, his hand on his chest. "That burn is almost as good as the one you gave the TV." Ben chuckled.

That shut the recently rather smart mouth of Pat, he had been riding a high which had fallen so low this morning that Ben instantly noticed, the Fisk reveal had shaken the man slightly, as well enraged. Pat was finding Fisk to be an annoyance, without knowing the man's real plan he had thought he would be able to guess based on what he remembers from the older marvel related stuff he knew. He was wrong.

The info that he had received from Wilton was that Fisk had hired AIM to kill him and Matt, also that he was working with far more groups than just the Russians. The Chinese and the Japanese groups were also working together with him for nefarious purposes that she didn't know. When they had got all they could from her, Matt threw her off the building. She survived but is in the hospital at the moment, not in a coma but her legs are broken as well as her left arm and nose. Also, some of her teeth had been broken when I knocked her to the floor and other injuries.

The point is she is alive, traumatized but alive.

Pat supposed it was better than just killing her in cold blood but he also knew that she would return with even greater forces. Which given the amount he was holding back in the last fight, didn't mean much in terms of intermediate threat. They send better forces, he just has too up his game, they couldn't match him at this point. Pat just hoped it would stay that way otherwise he would entertain more extreme measure.

He didn't like the idea, Pat could still remember the vacant look that accompanied death. The despair and sadness it could cause people, but also the crushing guilt that with along with it. He would do almost anything to avoid that feeling again.

"Hey," Ben started, placing a hand on Pat's shoulder taking him out of his depressed mood. "I know Fisk has managed to catch you off guard, but don't let him cause you to make mistakes," He smiled slightly, then in a low voice, he said. "Your recent attacks on the Russians have left them with so little manpower that from what we can tell they basically dead in the water, that is something "

What that note the two parted ways, so while Ben was going off to lunch Pat had realized something important. He didn't know a good place to rent a good suit and everyone he knew who wore suits were too small for him to borrow. Pat was a bit too embarrassed to ask Ben after such a suited exit, it would feel a bit too unorganized. He pulled out his phone pressing the screen so that rang the selected person.

"Hey Matt, do you know any place to rent a suit?"

* * *

He was one of the most wealthy people in the world, with access to technology that would make the rest of the world weep. He has had failures, worked with people that proved incapable of the tasks assigned to them. Whether by purposely choosing to betray him or because he overestimated their ability to get results it didn't matter, he had been burned too much.

No, it was time for action, he slides holograms across, sliding them over the air making schematics of mechanical armor suits appear in front of him. Then he collapsed the images with a snap of his fingers. A new idea entered his mind, if armor failed the first time then perhaps it wasn't the answer.

"If metal didn't work, then other ventures may have more luck," He spoke slowly sitting down and clasping his hands together. "Yes, I know just what to do." Robert da Costa arose once more from his seat, walking over the rather large and unseemly widow he turned his back to the only other occupant in the room.

"Susie," He said towards his meek secretary. "Get the head of the Intelligence division, I want to run something by him."

* * *

Tony Stark sat, alone in the recently rebuilt armor room of his also recently rebuilt mansion. The automated machines continued their work creating his newest designed armor. It incorporated several features that he thought up to counteract the rather cold breath the Blueman had showcased, it would also have several features that would allow him to restrain someone with enhanced strength. There was a loud knock at the door.

"Come in," His focus still on the suit being created but he was aware enough to call someone in. "I'm decent."

The being that entered was a man with red colored skin, his clothes were of a more ordinary make, this created a contest that would set people off at times. That such an alien looking man would dress in such a human manner, such a plain manner. This man was the Android, Vision.

Powered by the Mind Stone, one of six gems when brought together granted one the power of infinity, and having a body made of the toughest of materials, Vibranium, he had many powers that defied the normal expectation of man. Flight, strength, and forehead beams, these were just some of the powers made him one of, if not the, strongest beings on the Earth right now.

"Good your here," Tony spoke out his chin being scratched in thought. "It's time we discussed our game plan."

"Certainly sir, what do you have in mind?"

"We don't want this to de-evolve into fighting," Stark waved himself into a chair, Vision doing the same to keep their eyes at level with each other. "You're the toughest of us, so you go in all calm like and explain that we just want to talk"

"That seems fair, but what exactly do want with him? You never explained"

"Look enhanced people don't need the publicity that masked vigilantes bring at the moment, I can see through this media buzz about to see that his heart is in the right place but he's a moron that will only make things worse"

"I don't think we should start talks it by calling him a moron sir," The Vision told him, his calm voice portraying his sarcasm far better than Tony thought it should have. "Is the plan for him to join our new Avengers team, we are a bit short on members at the moment."

"Maybe," He said thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair to watch the armor being made at a better angle. "We also need to get that Arc Reactor off his hands, and I don't want to recruit him if he's some kind of an asshole so the reactor is the priority"

"Yes sir, no recruiting him if he's like you." The android had left the room before Tony had managed to form a reply. The machine phasing through the door not feeling the need to open it this time.

"Smart alec." Tony scoffed at the retreating Vision. He turned to the numbers for the newest design of his suit, shifting the image of the schematics towards a different armor.

A armor with the model number of Mark XLIX, it was a big armor maybe even bigger than the Incredible Hulk himself, and Tony hoped it was stronger as well, his fear of coming future threat that he yet discover mixing with his faith in technology could easily become a dangerous thing. It had already before and they say that history repeats.

"Sir, there is a message for you that we just recently received, do you want to hear it?"

"Put it on FRIDAY." He responded.

"Mr. Stark you are cordially invited to attend The Wilson Fisk Fundraiser for help gathering funds that the city will use to…" The message continued on from there, mentioning a time and place for which it would take place on. Tony's interest in attending events like these had lessened over the years and he found himself no longer attending them but this time he had a good feeling about this one. He would attend, after all, he was going to be in the area anyway, Tony would just attend the fundraiser and then he would deal with this Blueman.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Once again feeling under the weather so this took far longer to write than it should have taken me to write. This might have affected the writing quality itself so far. I will properly look this over again tomorrow for mistakes in plot and grammar because I am spent right now.**

 **I wonder if the Russians having lost so many people that their operation just collapses is even a reasonable thing to happen, well at least there is still the Irish to contend with at that level, well until the Punisher shows up and wipes them out from afar. I wonder what events people think have been completely butterflyed away in this story compared to canon?**

 **What kind of suit do you think Tony will use against Blueman?  
Anyway, what are your opinions on future costumes for Blueman? Design wise that is? **


	14. Testing Your Metal Pt1

**Author's Note: I think this might be my biggest chapter yet, I'm both proud of that and kind of worried how people will find it and because this is only part 1 of this meeting of heroes.**

* * *

The room was filled with an arrangement of tables that reminded Pat of a ring, people were dressed in some of the finest of clothes. From what Pat could figure out, this was meant to be a black tie event which meant stuffiest of suits and richest of drinks. Having never been to one before he wasn't sure how drinks work, does he have to pay for them or is it just all written off because it is a charity event or something. Pat decided to be careful with the subject by limiting his drinking. Not that alcohol could even affect him anymore, which just meant that he was better sticking to soft drinks or fruit juice.

He noticed the vast array of famous people that were mingled with the crowd of waiters and other servers. They were some that were the same that he knew from his old world, some that looked like actors but had different names and others he had no idea where they came from or even what they were called here.

That was when he found one of his targets.

"Oh Mr. O'Reilly," Patt spoke to the bodyguard standing several paces away from his boss. "It's good to meet you after all this time"

Jim had a slow turn around to face the reporter, a young redhead was by Jim's side. She was a tall even larger than either of the two men by at least 6 inches. Her sense was a little different than the rest of the females here, instead of some kind of fancy dress she wore a rather fitting suit with a tie that matched the shade of her hair. She wasn't an entirely a thin girl but the bulk came not from fat but the noticeable muscle she had on her. If Pat wasn't super strong than she could have no doubt broke his arm in an arm-wrestling match.

"Doyle is it?" Jim asked him, to which the response was a nod. "I read your article, I liked." He leads his hand in for a shake which Pat meekly shook.

"I thought you would, it's not every day you get called a hero by a national paper," He laughed, with a weak smile. "I was hoping for a quick interview if you're not too busy?" Pat pointed at Fisk who was smiling along with whatever his date was saying.

"Not at all, I'm here tonight as a guest not as a bodyguard," The father of one, walked over to a table so that the three of us could sit down, they sat at one side of the table and Pat the other side forming what could only be described as teams. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"You know," Pat took three wine glasses from a passing waiter. "Just standard questions like how is it working for a man like Wilson Fisk? What are your exact duties?" He passed the glasses over to the two.

"None for her," The bodyguard told him, which had the girl roll her eyes unseen to the man. "She's still underage."

"Right, sorry, we haven't actually been introduced yet." The younger man mentioned, opening his arms in a wide apologetic gesture. Leaning back in his seat and giving what he hoped was a disarming smile.

"Not your fault," He responded handing back both his wine glass and the one almost given to his daughter to the waiter. "This is my daughter Louise, my wife is at home sick and asked I'd bring her out with me."

"Yo," Louise responded flatly. "It nice to meet you, I've read most of your work these past few weeks." Here her tone raised to a barely interested pitch as if she didn't want to raise a fuss over it while her Dad was here.

"Oh, what do you think of it?"

"It's good, you're a bit too flowery at times for my taste though," She grabs a glass of water from a waiter. "I like it overall." Louise gave a small smile.

"At least one of us does." Was the embarrassed response from Pat who laughed lightly. From there Doyle started to discuss minor details of the work that O'Reilly did for Fisk, eventually leading into the man's thoughts on his employer.

"Mr. Fisk has been nothing but sound, he's a kind man who always has an open ear."

"And how would describe his romantic relationship with Miss Marianna?"

"You know her name already!" The male O'Reilly was surprised at this news. "She wasn't even named on TV, how did find her out already?"

"I asked around the office, you'd be surprised at what you can learn just by being interested but your kind of deflecting the question"

"Warm," Jim nodded, his hand swirling around the table, drawing circles around it. " I would describe them as warm, It reminds me more like puppy love than anything else."

"Wha-"

"O'Reilly!" An elderly man off some ways down yelled interrupting Pat and going over the murmur of the crowd and background noise that the band called music, this man and his yelling caused Jim to rise from his chair.

"That is just a business associate of Mr. Fisk, he wants me for something, could be important so I have to go for now," He turned to his daughter. "Just wait here I'll be right back, no funny business"

That left the two non-bodyguards alone at a deserted table. A fairly awkward silence came over the table. There wasn't much for the two to speak of, as strangers Louise wasn't sure how to start, especially with not wanting to reveal too much about what she thought her father was really doing, and Pat didn't feel comfortable pumping information out of someone who looked like they just about finished High School.

"So," She elongated the vowel sound as if searching for a topic. "You like comics? I really like the current run of Squadron Supreme"

* * *

"Antony Stark," The leisured voice of the giant man that was Wilson Fisk spoke out. Standing there with his girlfriend, Vanessa hanging off his arm. The duo was dressed in some of the finest clothes showcasing a level of style that could be matched by the richest of people like Fisk and Stark. "It is a… pleasure to finally meet the famous Iron Man"

"And your Wilson Fisk, a bald guy" Tony responded his voice higher than usual. "If we're just going to say the obvious to each other."

"Of course, my apologies," He replied, in what was attempt to keep in the good graces of Iron Man. "Have I introduced you my lady Vanessa?" Fisk's tone suddenly became gloating as he had some amazing treasure he had wanted to show off.

"No, you haven't, it's my pleasure to meet you," Tony took notice of her with all the charm he could apply, without actually flirting with her. "This is my bodyguard Jarvis," He pointed at a tall blonde man standing beside him in an equally expensive suit, said man replied with a simple hello sir and Miss. "How long have you two lovebirds been together?" Tony asked them rapidly changing the subject.

"Oh, awhile," She told him with a great deal nonchalance taking a sip of her wine, hoping that he would not attempt to dig deeper. "Have you tried the wine yet Mr. Stark? I found the selection tonight to be fantastic"

"No," He told her grabbing a glass filled with white wine from a nearby waiter, the same that had given Vanessa her glass. Tony carefully poured the drink down his throat, the taste filling him in a way only wine of this expense could. He has had darer alcohol but finds that after a certain point the expensiveness of the drink didn't match the taste, it became about bragging rather than having a good drink at that. "Good stuff"

"I...have been wondering Mr. Stark," Wilson spoke up once more, dragging the conversation back to him. "Are you were worried about what a violent criminal like this Blueman fellow will do with such a dangerous power source as your Arc Reactor?"

"No, Not really, only a fool would mess around with it," Tony revealed to which a loud sneeze could be heard in the rather large room, a bless you followed that by some young woman. "I'm more worried about who he'd sell it too, some people would spend a lot of money for it." But that was not all that Stark was thinking about, he was also enraged that someone had managed to finally get a working Iron Man suit beside him but also a stable Arc Reactor of that size, whoever had that tech was clearly the more dangerous of threats.

"But I have to wonder since you work so closely with the government Mr. Stark," Fisk started to ask his arm looping with Vanessa's own. "Are there plans for dealing the increasing influence of the Blueman has on the crime here," Probing for info on the hero's plans. "after all, he could easily be taking out threats to own more stealthy operations"

"Hahaha," Someone went, causing the seasoned Kingpin to jump slightly. "That is the stupidest thing I've heard all month," The quartet span around to find the form of Pat Doyle standing there with Louise, a glass of wine in his hand and a soda in her. "It's a bunch of baseless accusations that have no place coming out of someone's ." She continued on seemly annoyed at an idea presented without proof.

"Ah, young Miss O'Reilly." Fisk cooly replied, fixing his tie with visible indignation. "Well… I am afraid that as passionate about the subject as you are, you don't understand that this Blueman's actions can only mean to be a mad grab for power by... an unhinged mind"

"Or just an incompetent guy with superpowers, oh he's so dangerous it's not funny but there's no evidence that he's some kind of criminal mastermind, and until then any talk of him being a crime lord is like talk of the lizard people," She smirked, her face one of smug victory. "That's not to say he isn't one, it's just that you're a bit premature."

Tony twisted himself over slightly to Doyle.

"Your girl is a hoot"

"Nah," Was the start of Doyle's reply. "She's just the bodyguard's daughter, but this is amazing." He chuckled slightly sharing a grin with Tony over Fisk's situation and chucking back the rest of the wine, which drew a sharp look from the bald man and the girl in question. Before she could let out a verbal thrashing at his amusement over her disagreement with her father's boss, that was when a sharp voice was heard.

"Louise what are you doing!" Jim came thundering over to his daughter, with a mix of rage and worry on displayed on his face that only parenting could grant a person. "I am so sorry sir," He turned to Fisk with a look that screamed his fear at his boss. "She will apologize to you-"

"There is no need for that Jim," Fisk told him, there was a small smile on his lips, one that showed his pleasure at the what would have been done. Now that Jim had said they would be one, Fisk didn't feel need to make a public fuss over, better to play the bigger man in other ways than just size. "Kids can be passionate about things that they think are important, young Louise here no doubt finds the truth to be important and I think that is admirable," His smile became much larger. "I only wish that all youth were as passionate about the truth as your daughter Jim."

With that commotion, Pat tried his hand at getting a few words from Stark. Which depending on the man's mood would range from impossible to he's feeling chatty, and as one of two people in this with an Arc Reactor, he liked his chances.

"So Mr. Stark," Pat licked his lips, finding his throat dry, even with all the wine drinking he was doing. "Off the record, what ye think of Big Shiny over there?" This was said in a low voice that only Stark heard. It got a light laugh out of the man.

"Reporter?" To Doyle's nod, he continued. "Well, I personally thi-" Stark was stopped when he let out a bizarre choking noise from his mouth, a noise that soon spread elsewhere in the room, including to the love of Fisk. They all held the hands to the mouths in mute horror as the people around them grow more concerned with every passing second. The situation grew direr when Jim drew his eye to the wine glasses that had fallen to the floor piecing together the source of this carnage just as foam began to rise out of their mouths, he screamed.

"It's the wine!" The sounds of shattered glass accompanied that yell, people practically leaping from the glasses as it was cursed. The victims now fell grasping at their throats with mad abandon with was no doubt them trying to keep the foam from choking them.

That was when I large banner fell from the sky, it was a deep dark blue which only made the blazing white and blue symbol inside of it. A blue sun with three sets of lines coming out to the three corners of the large white diamond shield. [SPOILER] [/SPOILER]

"Ambulances are inbound!" Someone yelled, that was when the glass of wine that Pat was still holding was thrown out of hand by disguised Vision and onto the floor, the glass shattering away from any of the victims.

"You're not being affected?" He questioned the reporter in an almost robotic tone. "How peculiar for a man I sawing drinking the most glasses of wine between the three people among this area"

"M-maybe my g-glass didn't have any of the stuff that did this."

The Stark bodyguard didn't seem to buy this but was put off questioning further by the arrival of the paramedics, and started to coordinate their efforts with Jim O'Reilly. It wasn't all that far from then when all the victims were brought out of the room and no doubt taken to their ambulances. Fisk was transported along with a fellow known as Wesley, while Jarvies ented one with such a force against the medics that Pat could have sworn he was red for a few seconds.

The remaining guests of the fundraiser could only react to this situation with panic and horror, what kind of madness could have taken over someone to cause to do this to other people. Soon the police came in took people statements, starting the long process that would mean that no one could leave until it was finished.

* * *

It was hours later with the Vision sitting by Tony's beside when James Rhodes arrived walking into the room with the ease that showcased the advanced tech that allowed to walk even with his injury from a fight over a year prior. There was a silence that gripped the two, a feeling of discomfort that followed them no matter where they were since the moment Tony started to choke.

There was no need for the two to trade any talk, having already conversed with each other over the phone earlier while Vision was on his way to the hospital. Rhodes had hopped into the nearest War Machine Suit so that he could make the travel the fastest way possible.

"So we know for sure that it was the wine?" Rhodes asked his robotic friend, the anger seeping into his very stance.

"It was the only thing that all the victims had in common."

There were only two suspects in the Vision's mind. One was the Blueman himself, it was his logo on the banner and he had made himself known for branding incidents that he involved himself within recent months, but it could easily be another person framing him especially since there was no reason that Vision was aware of for the blue vigilante to target Wilson or Tony. Another person of suspicious was the reporter, Patrick Doyle. The young man was the only person at the fundraiser who didn't appear to be poisoned from the wine, even though Vision has seen him drink the most of the stuff, and the sheer number of people affected meant that is was unlikely that would be the case by accident.

"I have some research to do that may reveal important details about this event," Vision informed Rhodey, who had taken the droids previous position by their friend's side.

"What research?" There was a look of exhaustion on Rhodey's face, so much so that Vision didn't want to burden his friend, at least not yet.

"Possible leads that could be followed, I'll get back to you when I find something important." Without waiting for a response the usually red man left the room with a walk that screamed rage but only to those that knew him well.

He would first find this Blueman, Tony and FRIDAY had already managed to track his usual routes the vigilante used to combat crime, he should ensure that the reason they came to the city in the first was done, getting the Arc Reactor and offer the Blueman a place within Stark's circle of powered individuals before someone like Ross decides to come down on him.

And if it turns out that the Blueman was responsible for this tragic event then there will be no force that will be capable of stopping the hell he will release at this creature. He would call in Rhodes and together they would deal with him, the same way they had dealt with everyone who has tried to kill Tony over years.

Just as he was leaving the hospital corridors for the stairs, a lady appeared out of the elevator. Her dress suit was a plain white and her hair was red. This was the CEO of Stark Industries, Virginia "Pepper" Potts. Also Tony Stark's ex-girlfriend.

"Ms. Potts," Vision smiled softly at her, not wanting to cause her discomfort at this troubled time. "I how are you doing?"

"Me?" She questioned him, sounding confused at him asking her that at this time. "I'm fine," Pepper stopped for a second, looking at her hands and away from the android. "How's he doing?" She asked him, her voice low and soft, in an attempt to not draw too much attention to their talk and to keep her nerves down.

"He's going to be fine, the doctor says that he should recover," Vision revealed to her. "We should be thankful that he had only one drink this night." The two knew how unlikely that was, so they could only praise their lucky stars.

"Good," She took a large breath, tears blanketing her eyes like a waterfall ruining the makeup around them. "That's good." Wiping her eyes on her sleeves, marking the white arms of the jacket with the color of her makeup.

"You know," Vision started, slowly as if she were a deer. "You can go in to see him, Rhodey is in there now," At her quivering lip he added. "I know that he wakes up he would love to see you"

"Yeah," Pepper sniffled. "Thanks."

With those words having been spoken the two separated, one to the room where someone dear to them was being treated, the other had been focused further into his goal. Like a laser through a crystal and now nothing would stop the Vision from finding the truth of things.

[hr

* * *

It didn't take long for the police to let me and the rest of the party goers leave the building. They had taken statements from people and asked them not to leave the city any time soon, which I didn't plan on doing. At least not any time soon,

So after a quick jaunt to the office, I needed to get this work done now, so I did a Clark Kent and used my super speed to write my article. This sounds cool until you realize that the computer can't actually keep up with that level of speed, so the text appears on screen in a rapid pace but even once I stop it takes several seconds for the text to stop having the appearance of being typed. After that I had to go over it for mistakes, mistypes and keys that were pressed so fast that the computer couldn't register them, therefore needing me to re-type them.

When I was on my way out, I gave a USB stick, with the article, straight to Mitchell's hands, telling him in a rush of words what is the contents on it. The article talking about what went down at the Fundraiser earlier, there was no real title to it, that could really be handled by the marketing team. They just had better ideas in that area than I could hope for.

He took it with a look that I hoped signaled that he was impressed with at least the time it took me to do the article, with luck he would also feel like that when he actually reads the thing. But that was the end for my brief office time for the night as it had already got to the point that we were closing for the night.

Unfortunately for me right now, I couldn't afford to go home yet, I had some actual investigating to do this evening. The first thing I did was get changed into my Blueman spandex and Hoodie. Then I took out a phone with a certain number on it and called it.

"Yo," I went, thinking myself cool, but really trying to calm myself at the just the raw emotion I was feeling at the just thinking about the sheer number of potentials deaths I had just witnessed. Hell, I had almost given that girl Louise a glass of wine, I had almost poisoned her. "Matt, have heard the news?"

"What news? Are you okay? What happened?" Was the fury of rushed questions that were my fellow vigilante asked me. No doubt hearing the strain that my voice was under while keeping itself steady.

"The Fisk Fundraiser was…" I paused looking for the word, I didn't think that attack was the right word. Perhaps I should rephrase myself. "Someone poisoned the wine"

"What? Who?"

"I don't know yet," I told him, having finally calmed down enough to start my journey around the area, leaping onto the rooftops with all the power that being me grants. Once I landed I began the trick of allowing my momentum to carry my floating form across the night sky, hoping that my dark blue colors would mask my presence against the night sky. "But that is what I am going to find out, especially since Blueman has been framed for it"

"That is…"

"It gets worse," I told his hesitant voice over the phone about to drop the big bomb. "TONY STARK WAS THERE!" My calm failing and my voice transforming into a booming yell that people below me could hear with no difficulty.

"Fuck."

I landed after crossing six rooftops in rapid succession, sitting on my knees in hope to gather my thoughts. I wonder who did this? Why did they choose to do this to me? They would have to know that even if they kill Stark and have the remaining Avengers take me down, they would no doubt learn that I wasn't responsible. They were too smart otherwise and when that happened it would be all over for them as the Avengers and the rest of the World came down on them as Odin does to people he has bad dreams about in the myths.

"Look I'm going to poke around some Irish heads," I informed him. "They are the only people that I can think that could want Fisk out of the way"

"What about yourself?" The voice comes from no the phone but Red and Green Man as he slams me into a nearby rooftop. Cracking the concrete as I was planted, I quickly flipped up as I watched The Vision crush my phone in his hand.

"I hope that you'll replace that...you could have just hung up?"

"I don't have time for games Blueman," The Android threatened him. "Or should I say, Patrick Doyle." The sentence was said with such certainty that it surprised me, causing him to take a step back in instinct. How could he have figured it out, they had only just met.

"That is a guess of the century," I told him trying to play it off as wrong.

"Please," He scoffed at me, a smirk on his lips. "I can feel you in ways that are more than physical"

"I need might need an adult." I joked trying to remember what this guy could do. He was basically the Martian Manhunter of the Avenger but he couldn't read minds or shapeshift. So not really like him and a better comparison is properly Danny Phantom. My rambling thoughts on the nature of his powers was broth to a grinding halt when he spoke up once more.

"I think we have wasted enough time," There was an impression that I got from his tone that I was not sure if it was arrogance or impatience, but as he walked and as he landed his yellow cape billowing behind him, a thought entered my head. What can't Vision feel? "Were you the one that poisoned the fundraiser, Mr. Doyle?"

"No, I don't need to resort to poison if I wanted Fisk dead."

"No, but you could have if you thought that Iron Man would get in the way, stand against you and whatever plan you have, better to take them both out of the way with a bit of poison"

I stood there staring at him trying to decide on what action to do. I could try to book it if this starts going bad, I didn't want to have a fight against the Vision in the middle of Hell's Kitchen. There would be too many innocents who could get in the way. But at the same time, I was unlikely to get away from the bot, not when he could be connected to some kind of satellite that is tracking me as we speak. I would have to try the soft touch.

"There is no one in this area," He started, walking slowly to me. "I hope you understand, I think you're innocent but," Vision paused as he was carefully evaluating his response. "You have an Arc Reactor, you have been implicated in an incident that will kill dozens of people, at least until I clear your name, you should allow me to arrest you," His face was soft and it looked like he emitting kindness from his pores. "so we can take you off the table of suspects and find the real culprit"

It was an offer that sounded like it was is good faith, but I knew who was in charge of Enhanced Human Affairs in this country. General 'ThunderBolt' Ross, the Secretary of State, the dumb guy who causes more problems than he solves in the Hulk franchise. I would never hand myself over to a group that was under the control of a guy whose picture is next to bull-headed in the dictionary.

"I can't do that," I informed him, hoping that my tone was as regretful as I was. "Don't really have the time for that, have groceries to do." Before I could do anything but speak out loud a large cylinder wracked me from behind, drilling me in through the roof and into the building below. It was three times the size of me, with a door. When I broke through the second last floor I twirled around causing the weird missile thing to head the rest of the way without me.

Using my visionary powers I quickly found the body of the Vision standing above me now, standing on the unbroken part of the roof, the missile must have sent me sideways down to cause this. I took a deep breath and jumped, breaking through the roof and grabbing the android in a hold, he was taken by surprise so I took advantage of this minute to reach back hit him so hard in the face that he was sent flying down into the building I had just come from, a new hole marking itself beside my two prior ones.

"You Know," I yelled down at him, keeping my eye on him with the same powers that I used to see from below the roof while floating above the said roof. "I think all we will be doing is making the roof holey." I could almost hear someone sigh. I continued to wait for him to appear, still watching his form attempt to sneak up on me by phasing through walls come out of the building on the other side.

That was when it struck me. It being a rocket smacking me in the face, it wasn't all that effective but the smoke from the impact meant that I couldn't see where the attack came from. At least if I hadn't my thermal vision on, I could tell instantly where the attack came from. It was War Machine. He must've come down on the missile that hit me earlier, a real two for one deal. To deal him I blew a hard breath at him in hopes of freezing him at that spot in his armor.

But he was too quick, bursting into the sky and peppering me with rounds from the gun on his arm, War Machine was representing his namesake with all the ability of a real machine of war. I responded to his attacks by launching at where he was going to go to next. I grabbed his arm and forced the two of the two of us straight to the strangely empty street.

Using my heat vision I started to cut through all the visible weapons on the suit. With every blast of heat from my eyes, War Machine would pull another weapon out each as effortless as the last, for every attempt to escape from my grip, I picked him up and slammed him down. He roared and then used the one weapon I didn't hit due to worrying about blowing the Arc Reactor attached to it up. The Unibeam.

I was blasted down the street, my feet tearing up the street along with my runners. Leaving my feet with a mix of black and cloth leftovers covering them as I struggled against them beam with a decent amount of effort. The cloth of my hoodie was slowly being eroded with each step I made closer to the dark armored man, the asphalt cracking from the heat that came from the move.

Just as I was about to hit the man, Vision popped up from the side and blasted me with his yellow forehead beam right in the ear, knocking into a building where my sense of balance was temporarily out. For the first few seconds after the attack, I kept tripping over myself with all the grace of the Irish man I was, except on twenty pints.

I could see the two briefly converse, not being able to make out what they were saying but War Machine nodded his head and blasted off to some way unknown leaving me and Vision all by ourselves. This was confidently when I regained my balance, the two of strode forward, in a circle manner that allowed us to meet in the dead center of the street.

"Where did he go?" I pointed my head in the direction of the fleeing War Machine.

"I noticed how easy it was for you to disable his weapons and sent him off, you...are a more powerful foe than I anticipated." It was a humble response, one that showed me that the earlier look I have gotten was not arrogance but confidence.

"So it's just me and you?"

"That's correct." He smiled at me, there was something to that smile that told me that I should keep my guard up. Then we waited for what could only be called an invisible countdown, at three I swung my fist. He phased out through me, grabbing me by the shoulder and flinging me into the air, to which I responded to with a blast of Heat Vision. Vision leaped from his spot, his movements having a feather-like quality.

Vision's next move was for his forehead gem to blast me with all its yellow glory. I stomped down on the ground with a thud that an elephant would be jealous of, rushing in close to the android. I weaved through him like I had expected to, twirling around I blew my freeze breath at him with all the force of a gale. Sadly the concentrated form that this breath took allowed Vision a visible target for his beam to combat while he flew upwards away from the wind.

I flew at him with such a manner that resembled flight, but once more he dodged my oncoming form only to respond with a blast that I landed to do the same. In a move that was very Spiderman of me, I landed on a wall of a nearby building and kicked off it, shattering the concrete in the process. I was flung at Vision with greater force than even my last attempt.

Reacting to me quickly enough he phased through my next action with all the grace that I expected from him, allowing me to use that momentum to swing my fist into an open hand. Just like when the Hulk clapped hard, a boom enveloped the area, shattering the windows all across the block. The shards descended on us as rain would on regular people, battering against our bodies harmlessly.

Using this as a distraction I gave Vision the greatest blow I have ever given in my life, thumping him in his very Knight's Tale like face with all the force of a tactical missile. Knocking the android all the way through several buildings, going on far longer than a normal person could view, but not me. I could see him pull himself up with little trouble as if my blow had only shoved him through a cardboard house.

He rushed back at me with all the force he could muster, but something felt off about our preceding blows. Vision had started to play, strangely defensive for a man that I hadn't managed to harm yet. Still, this could be used to my advantage since if I was on defense there wasn't a lot I could do to defend against him.

That was when things got worse for me. I landed on the ground, waiting for my opponent to arrive back from another blow, it never even got into my head to leave, the Earth vibrated beneath my feet. I could see a massive shadow stretching across the broken up street. I slowly turned my head to stare at the figure that finally gave me true pause.

It was Iron Man, and he was in The Hulkbuster Suit.

"Oh...you have got to be fucking kidding me!"

I gave a yell of frustration and mirrored his next action, raising my fist to meet his in mid-flight. There was only one real thought in my head as our fists met, and that was 'What did I do to deserve this?'

* * *

 **There we go the first half of the fight that will end what I will call the set-up arc. This is when things will really heat up. Where soon earlier plot points will start to show up but not in the way that you would have expected, hopefully, but I wouldn't be surprised if people figure out where I am going with this.**

 **It is also where other elements that I hadn't been showing will show up. Certain characters will be getting a sudden shift since this is an event that is going to cause a bit of a cluster feck. A lot of people will have their worldview blown right open.**

 **I hope people were surprised with where this went, some of you who have watched Daredevil might have seen this coming once the event was raised in the last chapter. I won't say if the people responsible here are the same or not. Also just because Pat thinks something about a person, that they look kind. Doesn't mean that is the truth.**

 **Did Tony's and Pat's first meeting go anything like you guys first expected?**

 **Like always corrections are welcomed with opened arms.**

 **Are there any other questions?**


	15. Testing Your Metal Pt2

**Author's Note: Whoever can read this note, if they be worthy will wield the power of A Irishman. The only real power that is unique to the Irish has is calling crisps/potato chips Tayto.**

* * *

In a way, this reminded me of my brief time spent boxing before Junior Cert. I had never been good at it, never too big on going in on the offense. Much too comfortable with the defense positions, never liked to use the full force of my blows. I tried learning to be different with it, but I was under the impression that the people teaching weren't that interested.

This was almost like the first time I sparred, my opponent was bigger and heavier than me. There was a towering presence to each strike he made, the ring would shift under the raw force. I think that the people at training didn't like me very much, but eventually, I got over it and started to train somewhere else that didn't try to paste me into the ground. This fight felt very much like that first spar in that old boxing club, except here I wasn't in a ring, so when the street started to shake came off as a bit more worrying.

When my fist met the Hulkbuster fist with an incredible amount of force, outmatching the clap that I had done earlier against Vision I was shocked to find myself falling back. It was not that he overpowered me but that the ground could not take the force of my feet put it under. The asphalt crumbled under the power, it wasted away and I slide back from the blow.

I jumped out of the way of a blast from the suits massive repulsors, beam scraping across the ground and shoving a nearby car into a building like it was hanging a picture. The suit leaped at me with a speed that belayed its size, the boosters on him shoot him at me allowing me to be grabbed by his man-sized hand and dragged along the building like a rake. My form shattered concrete and eventually, he got bored of it and flung like one would throw a baseball, the speed sending high into the night's sky.

Lucky for me my powers allowed to still my momentum in mid-flight, unfortunate for me was the oncoming blast from Vision smacking into me like a train. I quickly fell in an attempt to evade the blast, ducking, weaving, and doing whatever it took to evade each blow. A fact that the Iron Man took great pleasure in taking advantage of this move. He slammed into the pavement, to screams of the rapidly retreating civilians and he then grabbed my leg and swung me into the road.

The impact causing my profile to be imprinted on its black surface. Twice more was this move done to me each time I felt that he was doing more damage to the ground than to me. At the third attempt I placed my hands out in front of me, they grinded through the concrete path in front of me, allowing me to grab whatever pipes were under there. This meant that the next time he lifted me Iron Man meet more resistance to his pull than he expected, giving me the surprise.

At the third pull I let go, the momentum this allowed me was the impetus of flinging myself into the air, dragging the armored man with me. He held fast and true as we descended towards the sky but I was finally able to look at the hand around my limb, and so I glared at it. My Heat Vision was on the highest that I had ever used it for, causing the eyes to which they came from to sting slightly from the use. That was when the Vision's blast interceded once more, the yellow energy whacking me from the sky, thankfully the blow also caused the suit's now malleable hand to let go of me, Iron Man's flight apparatus giving him the agency for a soft landing that I was denied as a slam into an empty Jeep, caving in its roof.

"You," I wheezed out, not so much from pain but just from the stress. "Know I expected more witty banter from Iron Man, you know a bit of jibing," I leaped away from the now burning car as Iron Man blasted it. "Not this deadly silence." I ducked under a swing, kicking the back the suit's elbow, dinging it.

"Mr. Stark is not in the talking mood," Vision landed gently, his form standing about 20 feet from were the two of were exchanging blows, no doubt looking for a clear shot at me while I went around targeting the Hulkbuster's limbs, burning the joints with heat vision and then slamming my fist into them. This was the continued pattern until the Vision cam upon phased through Iron Man and latched on to me, his arms forming around me in a full nelson.

This meant that the incoming blow from the mech became undodgeable as Vision and I were sent spiraling into the sky, far over the nearby buildings, over a terrified police helicopter and above a screaming city. I elbowed the robotic man in the head, the strike powerful enough to knock his grip loose, spinning in what was no doubt a waste of energy I kicked him up further into the sky, knocking him into the cloud cover. That was when I heard the form of Iron Man boosting up towards me.

"You know!" I turned, yelling and waving in an attempt to be heard over the wind at this height. "Might be for the best that we don't go back down!" I pointed around us, at the vast emptiness of the sky. He nodded at me, strangely staying silent for the talkative billionaire. That was when the Vision returned, by blasting me right back down into the city below.

Dropping, I attempted to readjust myself so that I could land on the ground assisted with my limited flight powers as gently as possible. It didn't help too much because I slammed into the top of a large building under construction hard enough to break through the roof and land into the level below. Sawdust, wood chips and bent metal girders were what broke my fall, still, the damage wasn't too bad, only a smallish hole in the roof and a few pieces of construction equipment and materials. That was when things got worse.

A large missile like object slammed into the floor beside me, making its own hole. It smoked and rumbled, shaking until it glowed white-hot, I jumped throwing myself onto the fall and keeping my eyes away from the device as it then exploded in a fiery display that collapsed both the building above me and below me. Darkness soon filled in my vision.

* * *

Jim shoved his wife into the halls of their apartment building, their daughter ahead of them by seconds. Louise grabbed what was left of the staff that was serving in this lone building, the rest having fled in a ensuring chaos the news of the oncoming fight as the news of the heroes breaking through the police barrier was taken with the terror that one would of a super hurricane. Jim and she shoved them down the stairs, fast but not yet running, as tripping could be just as fatal to them as the brawl outside would be.

They were heading down, below the ground floor, Fisk has an emergency bunker installed into some of the newer buildings he owned, in case of a deadly situation such as this. It was made of some kind of great alloy, but not all that expensive, at least when bought at these high qualities just thick and powerful. Standard science created this bunker, not super science, and so it could hold only what its size bellowed, enough food for at least over a hundred people for at least a year.

Sadly, that was the reason why Jim kept his daughter from informing the rest of the building about the bunker. He wanted to ensure that there would be enough supplies to last them in case there were problems, like for instance the whole building collapsing on top of them. The more supplies the better chance they had in getting rescued before they ran out.

When they had entered into the bunker, they had drifted apart like a spread of water being splattered on the ground. Louise landed on the couch with several of the serving staff they had brought with them, turning the TV and changing it over to a new channel that was chronicling the fight.

"Oh, that right bastard!" The youngest O'Reilly yelled at the sneak attack done by the Vision, mostly due to the fact that it at least looked like the Blueman was trying to surrender.

"Louise." Her father grumbled loudly, his voice was showing both tensions at their situation and anger at her such of language. He had enough issues with her because of her verbally attacking Mr. Fisk, Jim was not going to allow her any leeway even in this stressful situation.

That was things got confusing, walking out from one of the large toilet rooms were six rather men, each coming just one or two inches shorter than Louise's impressive 6 feet 7 inches. Dark suits with no ties but while they were expensive looking they lacked a refined look to their stances that defined the high class, reminding Jim of primates dressed up as people rather than a normal person. Coming up from behind them was a sickly looking fellow with a pink hood under the equally pink suit.

"Oh," His voice oozed something sinister, far more sinister than any of the criminals that Jim had worked with over the course of his life. The man's face was covered in shadow, unseen to all in the room. "Mr. O'Reilly and his young child, our leader would like to have a word with you."

* * *

Vision had landed down on top of the rubble, all his senses searching for the target. He hoped that the missile from the Hulkbuster suit had taken him out, but with Blueman's prior showcase of durability, he sincerely doubted it would do so. His senses both natural and supernatural searched for the enemy but found nothing, it was like Blueman had just disappeared.

"We'll have to search through the rubble for-" That was when Doyle reappeared in a flash of speed, in his arm a large steel girder. The Blue vigilante smacked the android with the force of a tank, sending flying back into the sky in an out of control spiral. From there Iron Man came in with a full repulsor blast from both arms, Blueman effortless blurred around the beams and slammed his fists into the faceplate of the Hulkbuster armor.

Interspersed with bursts of heat vision, he continued to hammer down the slower suit, putting dents into the armor. Eventually, Vision returned, spearing Blueman with and all the grace one would expect from a wrestler. They slammed right through the only remain, Blueman managing to twist themselves around so that he landed on top, he grabbed onto the androids head and bashed it into the ground, planting it like would a tree.

"Now," He turned quickly taking hold of the oncoming leg of the hulking Iron Man suit, and flipping it onto the still planted Vision. "No more sneak attacks." Doyle leaped away from this scene as quickly as he could, landing and then decided that running would be the better option at this moment.

It almost was the best idea, if it wasn't for the speed Vision could fly through buildings at, another yellow beam slammed him through a support for the nearby train tracks, a pillar that held up the tracks was now missing such a large chuck anyone would be able to tell that a passing train would cause the whole thing to fall over from the weight.

"Okay," Pat spoke up from my place on the ground, the remains of his costume covered in the grey dust of concrete. He hopped, dodging another oncoming beam of the robotic man. This pattern was repeated twice more before Blueman reached Vision and started to pound with several large blows to the face. "I've had enough of you!"

More beams and even fists of his own were thrown by the android, all of them blocked or dodged leaving the road beneath the tracks all torn up. Blueman soaked up a few of blows, pressing the palm of his hands against the Visions forehead, blocking the beams up and building up the pressure quickly. It then blasted the two away from each other, Pat just getting knocked away while Vision was now seemingly unconscious.

The Blueman twirled back up to his feet and was about to walk away but then something happened, the sound of the tracks above shaking. Instantly leaping towards the shattered pillar with a rush that left a wind tunnel in his wake, Blueman held onto the top of the concrete pillar with the palm of his hands, holding it in place for the passing train. Unseen to the people of the train but not to the onlookers around him.

For a moment there was silence.

Then a thunderous applause was let out, blanketing the area in sound. A young boy had his phone out, quickly snapping up a video of the whole incident between Blueman and VIsion. There were yells of 'woohoo', and cries of joy at the display of heroism.

"I was just doing what-" He started, even with a low volume it seemed to quiet the expect for a single man who yelled.

"You rule Bluedude!"

"Thank you," Doyle continued over him, his face having such a look of genuine surprise it seemed to send the crowd in an uproar once more with even greater volume, yelling even more compliments at the already very embarrassed fellow. When they finally calmed down he spoke once more "I'll have to juice but," Pointing at the down VIsion. "If he asked I went in the other direction, right?"

Without waiting for a response the vigilante blasted down the road, sadly for him, the other member of this brawl had just arrived, stomping down on the road like a hippo, clotheslining the passing man flipping him around in mid-air but the Blueman used this to his advantage. He leaned on his feet and continued his way forward unphased by the otherwise mighty blow.

The slower suit rapidly turned around to lumber after him from the sky, not daring to let off any of his long-range weapons so not to hit any of the innocent bystanders along the road. It was a race that neither side could afford to lose, well Iron Man could but not Pat. So it was a race that one side could not afford to lose, good news for then as he seemed to be outpacing the large armor with an advantage that none would have thought, leaving the hulking machine behind.

Until a pair hands arose from the road and grabbed the legs of a young vigilante. Doyle face planted into the road with the face of a small explosive, dust and debris filled a small section of the air its black substance. Vision kept his hold on him, dragging his body into the road itself, his intention with this move clear.

 _"That was kind of dark,"_ The metallic voice of the Iron Man suit told his friend. _"Isn't suffocation meant to be one of the worst deaths?"_

"It is more than he deserves," Vision said, rising from the floor, dark burn marks darting around his forehead gem, he let out a soft scoff at the location that their foe lay beneath. "We'll call Ross to let him know where the body is-"

Now he was the one being interrupted, but not with words, like the Blueman before him but by the sounds of an ever-approaching screech, it got louder and louder. The road started to bulge slightly before it seemed to just explode with the roar of rage. Their visions become clouded by road chucklets, sewerage and what seemed to be crushed concrete filling their eyes. A floating figure, arose from the smoke, the only thing visible was the deep red glow to his eyes, that was when Vision noticed that for the first time Blueman was bleeding.

With a speed that the two Avengers couldn't react to, he swept them with a barrage of fists. Smashing and denting the materially of that the Vision and the suit were made of. For the suit this wasn't too big of a deal, it was just armor. Vision, on the other hand, felt each blow and it was like nothing he had ever felt before.

He was left on the floor, for the first time in his life, in a daze from a purely physical blow. Vision briefly wondered if this was what Ultron felt in his last moments. The terrifying knowledge that you face an opponent not only your superior but that also wanted nothing but the destruction of everything you fought for, everything you cared for and they were going to end you, not in a maybe sense but as fact. This was the end.

Vision could only watch as the Hulkbuster's limb joints were so melted that replacements couldn't be attached, he could but watch as the superhuman battered the suit down to the ground, in flashes of red, with yells of anger and the banging of metal. Soon Blueman stuck his fingers inside the helmet, through the metal with nothing but the force he could muster. He tore it off like one would a band-aid, only to let out a shocked gasp.

"You're-"

* * *

It was the sound of a hospital that woke him finally. The sound of patients screaming in pain down the hall, of nurses gossiping out in the halls and the beeping of the heart monitor beside him that woke Tony Stark from his slumber. But that was not the only thing that greeted him once he woke. The sight of his ex-girlfriend and CEO of his company, Pepper Potts, wiping her eyes in front of him was the most alarming thing to him at the moment.

"Your eyes are red, "He spoke up, shocking her into attention. "A few tears for your long lost boss?" Tony graced her with the gentlest smile he could manage with how tired he felt. She leaped to his side, eyes full of tears of what Tony could only hope was joyful.

"Tony," She whispered, pressing her hand into his. "You're awake."

The two sat there in silence, just basking in the others attention. It had been at least a year for when the two of them had a moment to themselves like this, he only wished that it hadn't taken him getting poisoned to force them back together like this. That was when the next most alarming thing had finally entered into his field of view. A TV on the news channel broadcasting the terribly dangerous superhuman brawl happening right now.

"Fuck," Tony swore, jumping Pepper from her peaceful thoughts. Things had just gotten very stressful once again, as Tony watched the footage of Vision starting a fight with the vigilante he comes to recruit. "Pepper get Rhodey on the…" He paused at the sight of the Hulkbuster suit slamming on to the screen. "Get FRIDAY to stop the fight."

* * *

"War Machine?" Doyle spoke aloud, his confusion was plain to see. "I thought that…" At his pause Vision practically sprung at him, only to get slapped away like one would a bug. Bashing Vision off the side of a building.

Blueman dropped off the large Iron Man suit, taking a look around the ruined streets and the trail of destruction that the fighting had caused. It was pure carnage, it ached to know that his good attentions led to such an end. As much as it pained him to do so though, he would have to leave before his enemies could regain their bearings, he would have to hope that Matt would be able to solve the inciting incident by himself because as long as Blueman was in the city, the Avengers here would come for him. Blueman turned to leave, his torn top bellowing in the breeze, only to be stopped by a voice yelling out.

"I will stop you." Vision spoke up, slipping on the ground his feet were unsteady. What he spoke was not a threat, it was not an opinion, not to Vision. For he firmly believed that he would stop the young man before him. Pat gave him a soft smile, nodded his head, his domino mask somehow still on his face.

"Stop what?" He asked the falling hero, Blueman practically blasted out of sight. Wherever he had gone even Vision might've had trouble following him if he was even able to stand. The Avengers were left there, with the sounds of oncoming police and ambulance sirens off in the distance being the only thing that Vision could focus on now. But Rhodes and Vision did share one thought, what could have done differently to have won that fight. Unknownst to them, that was a thought shared by the retreating Blueman.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I say next week, I get the chapter done by Wednesday, what is literally wrong with me?**

 **This chapter is a lot shorter than the previous one, mostly because it is really only the second part of the fight scene, not really an equal in size chapter to the last. I included the Tony and O'Reilly scenes because Jim's part involves a future plotline that I need to introduce now or it will just be too random and Tony was part of the reveal. Still, I wonder did anyone figure out the twist here.**

 **This isn't the end of the New York arc of the story, there is a lot still to go through. Mostly because even if he isn't there that doesn't mean that things won't be still happening in New York, that is a reason for a diverse pov story after all. I hope that I didn't disappoint people with this fight, as some of my notice I am a bit new when it comes to long-form writing and I think it can show in how I describe fight scenes. I tried to be fair to all parties as possible but Vision and even the Hulkbuster don't have the type of weaponry necessary to take down a Kryptonian without prior knowledge of all his power set.**

 **I hope that people don't think that I was trying to bash Vision here. It's just that he has proven to be a bit unused to dealing with emotions, as Civil War proves. If he gets emotional then he will make mistakes. So this is him dealing with feelings he never thought he would. It clouded his judgment.**

 **The next piece will hopefully be another interlude, any guesses on what it will be about.**


	16. Interlude: Spining Webs

They had thought that after the invasion there would never be an event that caused such destruction, they had thought that after the Avenger's Airport brawl there wouldn't be a greater fight between people with powers above human. They thought that the remaining Avengers would be the ones protecting them. They had thought wrong.

It was High above the action in a police copter far away from the carnage Vision and War Machine was causing in their fight against Blueman, there sat a regular cop. He was no different from any other good cop, perhaps more naive than any New York had any right to be but he had experience on his side. He went by the name Kirby but it wasn't his name that was important at this moment, he was just an observer, a cop given a role to observe the heroes from his chopper, what was important was that role, because from his chopper he could see everything.

He had been given the orders to keep an eye on the confrontation from a distance, not to engage but just document to the ongoing conflict between to the titans of Earth. Kirby was just to stay there until military choppers arrived on site, but what he saw enraged him, and he had it all on proverbial tape. He had seen the heroes shoot a missile at blue vigilante, ramming through the very building they stood on. Kirby could only take one thing from this, the ones to start this fight were the Avengers' War Machine and Vision. They hadn't seemed to even try to negotiate.

Action seemed to be their forte.

Kirby continued to monitor this fight, this brawl, his co-pilot by his side, with tension rising throughout my body. He could feel it in his bones as War Machine quickly lost his weapons, fear rose further by the nonchalant usage of the Suit Unibeam tearing up the street, even then the vigilante walked through it. That next set of amazing action was when the windows all along the street shattered under the raw force of one of Blueman's missed blows caused. The fight was much more destructive than even his wildest dreams. If it wasn't for the small size of the android then the damage came from him being smashed through the buildings would have been worse.

The action was only becoming more destructive, only spreading to a wider area, Kirby would have to call in for the area that they had set up blockades in to, an attempt to keep civilian casualties to a minimum, to be increased but he wasn't sure that they widen for enough. Kirby could only really blame the Avengers for not trying hard enough for a peaceful solution.

But for all the blame that he could lay at the feet of these Avengers, it wasn't them that frightened him the most. It was the Blueman that did that, he walked through everything they threw at him. He was like the everlasting sun, blinding and invincible to all those that attack it. A Titan amongst Gods, they had power, he was a power, and as Iron Man finally arrived to scene in his massive armor Kirby knew that this could only make things worse.

* * *

They were lucky, if they were even a few seconds more they would have been too late. There would have too much attention in the area. Too many eyes on the scene for their goal to work. But also the coming rain would have destroyed whatever material they needed that would have been at the scene. He had been given task with greater importance than the one given to his compatriots, they were just getting a special subject but there are many that could fill that role. None could replace the most important part of the project. That was when his phone rang.

That would be his latest employer. He had worked numerous jobs like this over the years for a number of people. It was at one point the Soviets, another time it was the Chinese. He had been using his unique talents for years, that was until he met a certain my of a multi-headed organization. There gave him tools necessary to increase his game. To take to further heights. Their fall, that just meant that the chains of working for them had been cut loose and he was free to take independent jobs like this.

"Hello," The worker answered, his tone somehow displaying the years of work he had been doing jobs like this. "Of course Mr. Da Costa, I'm just not sure how clean these samples are? After all, there is a lot of sewerage about, it could have contaminated them," He could only nod. "No, I understand sir, you don't have to blackmail me," There was another response, anger could be felt from the words being said at the other end, the unnamed man paled. "Yes, it does show what they're willing to do when angered, it would be a shame for them to learn of my involvement," He shook his head. "No more lip from me sir."

That was the end of that talk, the man sat on a nearby motorbike, there was very little he could do now, his boss had him in a vice grip. Still, there was a power that came from this event, of the beings involved but also of knowing that it was by his hand that it happened. He knew that this feeling of accomplishment wouldn't last, not with a new chain around his neck at the hand of AIM, but that would go to show Dmitri not to allow his head to get so big again. After all, Chameleons have plenty of predators.

* * *

It wasn't every day since Spiderman became a hero that he arrived late, most of the time he arrived just in time. He hadn't really been a part of anything at this level, even that brawl at the Airport hadn't caused this much chaos, oh there was more damage to the airport than there was to this one street but the airport didn't have an entire building collapse under it, just a tower. In either case, this fight started somewhere in Hell's Kitchen, with the building being destroyed in between there and here.

It wasn't the worst that this city had experienced but that never meant it was a good thing. At least six people were injured in the fight, some people even can't even be found in this mess. They were missing, the cops still had to follow the standard rules, because it could just be fear mongering.

Still, the broken Hulkbuster suit was a sight that Peter had never thought he would see, at least not here in New York. Not where such a suit would cause far more damage than whatever threat it could face, a smaller longer range suit would be better, could allow you to take the fight out of the city, lead the guy you're fighting away.

Peter dropped down from the sky, landing just downward from Vision who was still struggling to stand, he was slipping and tripping over nothing, his face set with look that screamed of his determination. Vision looked up to him, rising his hand for help from his position, with that politeness that signaled his upbringing the Spiderman did so with a nervous grin.

"Thank you," Vision said his voice steady and calm as he struggled to stay standing. He leaned forward, brushing against a wall, that was when Peter finally got a better look at his elder's face. It was blackened in areas, mainly around the yellow gem on his forehead. Vision's face, on the other hand, has a rather large dent in it. "Where did that-" He was interrupted by the younger man.

"You alright?" The concern Peter had couldn't be seen due to his mask but still, it could be heard in his tone of voice. "I think you should sit, sir."

"Your concern is touching but I-" Just as he was about to leap up into the sky, in what was no doubt attempt to find the escaping Blueman, Vision's cape was yanked back snapping his butt to the ground with a loud clang. "That was unnecessary-"

"Wait," Spiderman interrupted him with a speed that deterred the android from further action. He touched his ear as if he was accepting a call. "Yes, Mr. Stark I have him right here," Vision felt a chill grow up his spine. It was as he could a feel a surge of rage that existed on the other side of the call. "Oh no, he's not going anywhere, I got him caped down."

Vision stewed for a minute, thinking about how the fight went. He hadn't expected that level of strength from the vigilante. Form what the reports they had gotten from the police, Blueman had been injured by weapons that had weaker yields than he was capable with his own beams. He seemed to have gotten extraordinary stronger than he had been even two or three months ago.

"Eh," Spiderman sounded a noise grabbing the caped Avenger's attention once more. "Mr. Stark wants you to head back to the hospital with Rhody," It wasn't a question the young man was asking, it was a statement he was making. Then he broke his mood when turned to the suit and said. "Does Mister Stark know you took the keys to the Hulkbuster? I mean, I've heard of joyrides ending badly, but yeesh..."

"But someone has to catch up with that mani-"

"Right," A new voice spoke from nearby, the two turned over to the erupting sound coming from the broken pieces of the Hulkbuster suit. War Machine popped up with a grace that seemed to contrast with the melted chunks and loose connections all over his armor. "Because that has been working out great so far."

* * *

I wasn't long making my way to the coast, the great Atlantic Ocean was out there ahead of me. There I was sitting on a beach, I don't know which beach or even where exactly I was but I knew that it what I was looking at was the ocean. I could feel it.

I took off what little foot protection I had left on my feet, throwing them miles away into the watery distance, letting my feet feel the cool refreshing air for just a few moments before walking back onto the dry part of the beach. Laying down I stared up into the sky, I knew that eventually, that satellite would allow them to follow me to this location, I could see one from my position but I couldn't be sure that it was actually following me or was just a random one. Couldn't allow fear to control my actions, I would have to stay calm.

"They may be watching me at this moment," it was a thought that made it hard for me to even come up with a way around the satellite. "That's it!" I exclaimed finally drawing the attention of a nearby passerby.

"You okay mate?"

I ignored the man by leaping into the water far out of sight. I dove deep under the water, my world becoming a watery mess, the cool feel of it calming down me further than I had been before. I began to wonder how long I could swim underwater without breathing as I began swimming out into the ocean at a speed that I hoped no one could match. Whenever I was going to, I don't know but I felt that Matt had a handle on the small time in Hell's Kitchen and with me out of the city hopefully War Machine and Vision will refocus their investigation on other suspects for the poisoning. If not then I will just pray that Matt doesn't get too far over his head without me for now.

A little vacation would be good for me.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I have very little to say. But shout out to Visual Pun for a great list of Spiderman quips to use on Vision.**


	17. Loose Ends Get Sniped

**Author's Note: This is what happens once you realize what an ass some writers are, it's a random message but I should mention that I don't like Jim Starlin. I will never kill characters just because I dislike the idea of their involvement.**

* * *

The kidnapping of the O'Reilly family hadn't gone as well as he had thought it would, they were meant to get into the bunker, take the bodyguard's family hostage. Then they would hold them in ransom, in exchange O'Reilly would be their inside man on Fisk's operations, allowing to slowly gain ground on the oh so secretive criminal empire. Then when he was weak, O'Reilly as the trusted bodyguard would lay him down with one final bullet.

That was the idea.

But it was when the third member of the group he came in with fell to the floor with a thunderous flip, he had to admit maybe he had underestimated this family. Not the mother, she was a sniveling mess of a person shaking in the corner. Nor was Jim the person he underestimated, not to say that Jim wasn't giving them trouble no, it's just that him giving them some issues was expected. No, what wasn't expected?

The Girl dropkicking him and one of the guys he bought with him. She then proceeded to take apart another with little effort, while her father struggled with the last one in a bout of fisticuffs.

This Louise elbowed her enemy in the face, smacking him to ground with a painful thud, the downed man leaped back to his feet, sending a fist towards the young girl. She stepped inside the length of his arm, putting her own up and deflecting the blow, leaving him open for her counter attack. Louise unleashed a series blows, first a headbutt to his nose, smashing it open, then she sent to mighty strikes to each of the man's cheeks, and then she twisted around him and gave a hefty kick to the back of the knee, leaving the man on said knees, dazed out of his mind.

"And to finished this off," Louise spoke up grabbing the dazed man by his chin. She spun him around several times, around and around like a merry go round. Until she reached just the right speed and position and threw the poor 6-foot muscle bound thug right into the one fighting Jim O'Reilly slamming them into a wall with blood splat.

I could feel a certain amount of terror creep up my back when the girl turned her eyes back to me. I stumbled out up to my feet, running the other way with a stride that could only be called desperate. I had almost caught a break when the other guy she dropkicked had risen and leaped at her, to which Louise ducked with almost unnatural elegance, that leads her jumping up at the man's neck once he landed, smacking her knee right into his ear.

There was a thud, I could no longer look, I had to get out of here. I was only a hired thug and wasn't paid enough to take a risk against such a freak. If Fisk managed to get his hands on him, it didn't matter if he wasn't going rat them out, his employer wouldn't let live through the night.

As I ran out of the room and into the hall, Jim O'Reilly ran out after me, the daughter not far behind him, Jim's form looming right next to mine, for every step I ran, he took two more edging closer to me with every second.

That was when it happened.

BOOM!

It was not the worldly sound effect of an explosive but that sound of space itself splitting open before them. It sucked him into it with the force a tornado, twirling him and Jim around until we landed on the other side of the portal, leaving the girl behind but landing them in a cold dank place, where it felt like all hope in the world was just sucked away. What came next was a shadowed figure, it was as if the very light of the world was frightened by his very presence, but I could make out the hunched but still menacing form of this being.

"Hello, welcome to my residence," A male voice spoke out, and I recognized it as my Boss. The figure walked closer to our position as I felt the urge to kneel before his very presence. "Mr. O'Reilly, I've been waiting for you, it seems my associate was having trouble convincing you to meet with me."

"Who are you?" Mr. O'Reilly's voice quivered, understandable in the presence of the Boss, but one does not ask of him how dare he. This would not stand, I gave the man the mightiest blow that I could muster right to the back of his head, knocking the man to the floor unconscious.

"That was uncalled for," The cold voice of the Boss came down on me like a whip. It was as if I had physically been hit but I knew that the Boss needed no such method to cause him harm. "Your failure to apprehend the entire O'Reilly family has set my plans back, this is a dis-pleasurable outcome." His eyes started to glow red, energy flowing around them like a sun.

"Please!" I screamed, forcing my head further along the floor. "I can do better, I just need better guys or fancier equipment." That was when I knew that I had made a mistake. I proclaimed that the provinces the Boss gave were at fault, one must never insult the Boss like that.

The last thing I'd ever see was the red light of the Boss's eyes before I met my faith of oblivion, but somehow I could still hear a few more words from the Boss in these final moments.

"Perhaps, it is time to make a play with one of my own pieces." The Boss mused I could imagine his cold terrifying smile and somehow it brought comfort to know that his god was happy.

[hr]

 _ **(The Night After the Blueman Incident)**_

There was a harsh snap in the room that woke Wilton from her drug-induced sleep. She had been placed in here to help deal with the pain that came from her rather severe injuries at the hands of the vigilante duo. The defeat was humiliating, the blue one was basically a child just flopping about, and she was surprised that she still lived with the way that dark colored one threw her off that building.

"I know your there Mr. Black Mask," She spoke with an ease that maintained a level of control that few would have in this position. It sent chills out into the room. "Is there something else you want to talk about?" Wilton was fundamentally cheeky for someone who was strapped in a hospital bed.

"What do you know about Fisk's fundraiser being poisoned?" Matt was being short, not wasting a single moment with the trivial response the woman wanted from him.

"Oh," Her voice went up a bit in pitch, making what she was about to say a feigning attempt at lying so brazenly that Matt almost believed that she was trying to trick him into thinking it the truth. "I know little but what I hear from the news"

Matt smacked the IV rack next to her bed, it thudded to the ground with a clatter knocking the drip line out of her arm. He grabbed her face forcing it to look him dead in his own cloth covered one, a growl from his lips. Then she reached out and gripped him by his jumper and threw into a wall with the force of a bull. Matt slid down to the floor with a gaunt sound coming from his lips as he rolled away from the oncoming drop kick of the redhead.

He kicked her in the head, smacking away her next attack with a grace that his training allowed him. When Wilton started to glow, Matt had already been prepared for that possibility, he reached out behind his back and pulled out a familiar weapon. A crude blue-glowing rifle. She stopped, not wanting to get a face full of whatever it shot.

"Didn't think you liked guns?" This was a cheeky response for someone with a gun on them.

"You hold a special place in my heart," Teeth forming into s cruel smile. "so for you I'll make an exception"

"So why should I tell you anything else?" She nonchalantly flopped back onto her bed. "You should-"

That when a surprising event happened, the lights turned out. Not just in this room but in other rooms throughout the building. While Matt could hear the clumping of over half a dozen footsteps coming towards them, Wilton looked out the window to see that a large black van was parked outside the hospital, its driver was one that she was familiar with from her job. AIM had come to get her. Wilton turned to the masked vigilante with a smile that should be seen on animated lions.

"I'd hop on out of here little mask," Her voice radiated the sheer threat that was coming up the hall. "Your little pea shooter won't do you any good against all my men."

"Are you sure that they're yours?" With at that said he heard the telltale scene of a gun about to be fired. A bullet entering its chamber.

Matt swept himself to the side of the room, dragging her to the floor at the same time. That was when a squall of bullets rang out to the bed. Cloth became ripped, what once was a blanket became scraps. Wilton sprang back to her feet after the shots were over slipped to the side of the door, opposite from where it opens. She did this with a speed that surpassed Matt's expectations of her.

The boots of the armed AIM security forces came crashing through the door, snapping the hinges off in a savage manner that showcased their intention as most, as well as the gunfire, did. Of the six of them, Wilton grabbed the rifle of the man closest to her by the barrel, surprising the men who hadn't seen her coming. She lifted the man up like this, using him to wack another one, knocking the two out cold.

Just when the rest were about to fire the Black Mask came in flinging the rifle in his hands into their guns with enough force to knock them out of their hands. He followed this up with a spinning kick the back of one of their heads, slapping the man down to the floor. That left him open to the kick of yet another one of the AIM men slamming him down to the ground with a painful thud.

One of them raised a baton taken from a holder on their outfit, but just as he was about to hit him with it, a kick from a shoeless foot struck the man in the face. There was meaty crunch that signaled a scream of pain as the man collapsed onto the floor in a boneless heap. That was one Matt leaped up from the floor and slammed his hands over the ears of the last man standing, which Wilton took as an opening to knife chop the man's throat.

"Well," She smiled at the vigilante, as always it was one that would remind a person of the monster from It. "They send a message that I don't like."

"What's that?" Matt asked while raising his guard around the woman further. He hadn't actually appreciated Pat's warning of her potential physical ability too much. The kid was always worried about breaking things, it only made sense that he thought that Matt was too vagile to fight this woman.

"That I'm fired," She took a deep breath and looked down at the broken rifle weapon that the vigilante brandished earlier. "You didn't use it? What a waste."

"Wasn't real"

That created a silence.

[hr]

The newsroom at the New York Bulletin was abuzz with a noise that few could work in but these weren't just any workers, these were people who were dedicated to bringing forth truth in the world. There covered gruesome tragedies, political schemes and the corruption of the global business. These people were what New York thought of when it came to hard-hitting news. Most people working here took their job and the paper seriously.

Well, not all of the people working here took it seriously, there was one person here who wasn't here for the glory of the press, and the for the truth to be told above all else. One who the author had decided to write like a Silver Age Villain because he was never even heard of subtlety, she was a long time worker and a decent actor who has managed to fool the staff at the paper for years now. Feeding info to rivals and even at times to those that would use this info to commit terrible deeds, some of which included murder.

But Caldwell did not care for others, just the money she could make off them.

She stalked the room with an ear out for juicy tidbits she could sell for later. Today was looking up for her, Doyle hadn't shown up since the fundraiser, he's gone missing since Ben has noted that his stuff is untouched at the apartment. Caldwell could not be happier, with him gone that meant that the bigger stories that he'd been poaching would go to people she could steal information from. Unlike that guy who was so secretive one would think his notes had the nuclear codes on them, most of the people here were opened mouth with her, due to the number of years she worked into gaining their trust. That was when this juicy sentence was spoken.

"No one has heard from him yet?" Mitchell asked the visibly stained Ben, whose face was just about looking like a pune, wrinkly and sad to Caldwell's eyes. "Has anyone checked in on that bar he likes to drink at?"

"The first place I looked," Ben sighed, eyes dropping to the floor with a look that even pulled her heartstrings until that is she remembered the guy they were discussing. "Then I looked for him at his other hangouts."

"Well," The Editor in Chief swallowed deeply. "Pat is tough, I'm sure that he'll show up soon."

"Yeah, that is what I am afraid." The Reporter sighed once more walked off, leaving the offices section entirely while muttering under his breath. Caldwell knew that this was a golden opportunity for her, Ben's office was totally empty, the documents that would be his office, Ben being an Editor know means that he would far more information in his office than most other members of staff.

With that, she entered the room unseen by all but one other person, Mitchell Ellison. What she found was a person she hadn't thought she would.

"Doyle?"

* * *

It was silent in Tony's hospital room, no one wanted to be the first person to speak, to become the center of attention. It would mean that they would be the focal point for a storm of anger, a tidal wave disappointment that neither Vision or Rhody wanted. Tony grew visibly redder as the seconds passed, his stare causing the two to look downward as if they were frightened children.

"Okay," Tony sat up from his hospital bed, making it so his back was resting against the head of the bed. Pepper was watching at his side, ready to intercede if he worked himself up too much. "So which one of you morons decided that having a brawl with love child of Thor and Hulk was the best idea?"

"I had assumed that he was the one responsible-"

"Yeah because someone that can juggle the Hulk," Tony interrupted, coughing slightly. "They would be too scared to face down two middle-aged men, because you know we're terrifying at fisticuffs," This only lead to the room falling silent once more. Stark looked at his best friend, he then looked to Vision. The two could truly feel the disappointment Tony was feeling due to them. "Now we know what happens when an Immovable Plan meets Irresistible Stupidity..."

"Tony-" Rhodey finally spoke up, finally gaining enough bravery to speak with his longtime friend.

"Don't-" Tony cut him off, coughing a hacking up spit and bending over in pain. Pepper was soon huddled over him, asking him to take it easy. The man nodded but gave a look over at the other that promised that their talk was far from over and once he was better than he would really give them the talk they deserved.

Pepper soon lead the other two out of the room, stopping just after getting out of Tony's hearing range. They faced each other, waiting for some kind of signal that would allow a comfortable talk between them. That was when Rhody decided to take the plunge by stepping closer to her. Pepper smacked him across the face, Vision was next when he opened his mouth about to speak only for her hand to smack against the hardened material that was his head. But that was her mistake for as dented as Vision's head as it was still made from Vibranium.

And if that was really painful then Pepper didn't let it show, the only mark of it was the redness to her hand.

"What the fuck were you thinking!"

"I was doing what we always have done, take threats down," There was a calmness to Vision's voice, a steadiness that was like steel. "I only underestimated what our opponent was capable of."

" _I only underestimated what our opponent was capable of,_ " Was a mocking reply from the CEO. "I want to know why you even started a fight in the first place?"

"To bring him in?" Now Vision seemed kind of confused, he wasn't liking the tone that this conversation was taking. "He is a threat, a danger-"

"He wasn't the one to bring down an entire building, he was the one to save a train full of innocent people"

"Which he broke the support pillar for." Vision argued weakly, the guilt of the incident couldn't be seen on his face but it could be seen in his eyes.

"You're the one who put him through the thing in the first place." Pepper sighed. Her hand rubbing her forehead in frustration. "Rhody why did you go along with this?"

"That is something that we want to know as well Ms. Potts," A newcomer walked up towards the group, his clothes spoke of his occupation. He was a military man, a Major. The man turned to the Vision and Rhodes, making sure to look Vision in the eye "I am sorry to say this to you sir but, both you and Colonel Rhodes are to come with me into custody."

* * *

Wilson Fisk sat beside the bed of the woman that he had wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Her still unmoving body was only matched by the look of other despair her love had on his face, there was no movement from not only his face but his whole body, it was still, motionless while he bent over the bed and held her cold clammy hand. Fisk rose, his eyes full of tears for the first time since he was a small boy.

"Wesley," He spoke, his voice cold but full of raw anger, it wasn't a question for the other man, because he had never left his boss and friend since the news had been spoken aloud. "We are going to find out who did this, and _**we are to burn everything they love to the ground**_ and then only after they have nothing, only when I have pissed on their lives work, only then will I let them die"

The criminal Kingpin walked out of the hospital with a walk that convinced even the reporters waiting outside of the building to leave him alone, the anger was just too much for them to contend with. New York was about to undergo a change, one that none would have been able to tell was coming. For Wilson was no longer after money like he had been in his youth, no longer was after remaking this city into a place of his design, he wasn't interested in control anymore. He just wanted revenge for the loss of his love. Vanessa Marianna was dead.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I kill my characters because the story flowed into that decision for me. This chapter was originally going to be longer but I felt that the scenes that I didn't put into here are actually better off in their own chapter.**

 **I'm sorry if this chapter is actually worse grammar wise than any of the others, I don't have access to my computer at the moment so that makes it harder to write this because I can't use Grammarly at the moment to catch the minor mistakes like I usually do. No, it's just the old Eyeball Mark 1 for me right now.**


	18. Spys, DNA and Fights

**Author's Note: This is what we need to do, kill the Batman. Because he's jealous that Spiderman has the better game, and that Arrow stole like 2 or 3 of his villains.**

* * *

This was an odd time for Matt Murdock, he never thought that he would have been forced to work with someone like this Wilton woman. She was slightly deranged, bouncing about a hideout he picked for meetings with Pat so that anyone following either from their nighttime activities wouldn't find where they lived straight away. It was just another abandoned building that now occupied Hell's Kitchen, the gang war and the Blueman incident having cleared out the residence for safety reasons.

"Are you just going to brood in the corner?" Wilton asked mocking him while at the same time doing a handstand. This woman had far too much energy to deal with, she apparently needed to prance."This partnership isn't going to work if we don't _communicate_."

"So who's our target then?"

"Target? This isn't a _target_ kind of game." She responded, flinging herself towards a dusty couch. The redhead laid there like a rather limber lion, lazing like she was expecting someone to wait on her.

"What kind of game is it then?"

"We get Fisk really angry, he starts getting a bit," She puffed her lips as if she was thinking about how to verse herself. "Reckless, angry and willing spend millions on AIM backup to get his revenge"

"His lover," Matt commented, stroking his chin deep thought. "You've planned to kill her from the start? That's insane"

"Don't be stupid, of course, we didn't plan from the start to anger Fisk into giving us more money," She gave him a look that announced how dumb he was being. "We just...found weakness and exploited it, Stark was properly just a bonus"

"The Blueman frame job," He chuckled lightly. "If you call it that, even the Bugle knows it bogus."

"I wasn't at the job," Wilton sneered at him shifting on the chair so that she can face him. "I would have blamed the Irish, O'Reilly was right there, had the connections too but I suppose our leader really wanted a potential blood sample."

"Blood sample?" Matt asked confused for a second at that part of the statement before coming to realization by himself quicker than she could answer. "If AIM could replicate Blue's abilities with even a fraction of the potency then they would have the most powerful forces the world has ever seen."

"Bingo"

"Do actually know who your boss would send to do this? Or are you just going to waste my time more than you already have in the time it took us to get here."

"Of course I do, its Dmitri Smerdyakov."

* * *

"Oh, Caldwell," Doyle's posture was much to positive for Caldwell to feel good about it, his clothes also felt off in the littlest of ways. Doyle wasn't usually one for the business man-style suit, he was much into plaid shirts. He had this smile on his face that looked wrong, there was too much confidence. Doyle either had this look of confusion or one that screamed smugness. Here there was a just this chilling smile that zapped the warmth from the room. "This isn't your office, what are you doing here?"

"Ehh," She went, as Doyle started to use his over six feet height to tower over her, it intimidated her. A gesture that was so out of place for the young man that she was taken off guard. "I had seen a... shadow in the room through the door window, I was checking to see why Ben was back so early," Caldwell shrugged her shoulders at him, masking the ever approaching feeling of dread that was making its way through her body. "He was only leaving for his lunch break."

"Fair enough," Now it was Pat who was shrugging, which was a far more familiar gesture from the man, much less aggressive. There was still something wrong, it like a scent in the air. "I have some work to do, so if you don't mind?" There was an edge to his voice but Caldwell didn't care, any excuse to get away from this freak was a welcome one.

Doyle had a look on his face as he slowly turned away from the retreating Caldwell, who exited the room with all the speed of escaping prey from their predator. Doyle began to walk towards the desk, grabbing a USB drive from one the computer's port, after that he started to make his way towards the window, where its opened form revealed a fire escape.

"That was just too easy," _Doyle_ chuckled out. "Not sure what he wants with this but it isn't my job to ask."

He stepped out into the fire escape leaping off it and onto a waiting bike. A smile on his face was massive, his teeth showing for all the world. With a press of a button that was hidden on his wrist, the once human skin flashed and then became white like marble. This level of work was beneath him, but there was always a pleasure to be had when taking advantage of morons.

* * *

I awoke to the sound of some woman yelling at me, as I could feel myself being dragged inshore, my floating form making little resistance for whoever this was. Soon I was jolted from my dazed mode when my body started to scrapped along with a sandy beach, I jumped up, the lady that I pulled in becoming a dot from my new position above in the sky.

I took a deep breath, gathering myself for a moment and looked around the area I had found myself in. It was then I came to a stunning realization, I was falling right back down with a speed that was unmatched. Slamming back into the sand, the particles of it jumping up my nose. Then I noticed a woman before me, she was about as tall as I was, maybe shorter by an inch or so. She had brown hair that reached down to her neck, her clothes were plain and unremarkable.

What alerted me most wasn't her appearance but her presence. She was familiar, in a way that caused me to feel nothing but awe in front of her but I couldn't put my finger on it. Like looking at a person that you had only seen drawn in the past but now was meeting them for the first.

"Impressive leap," There was a snarky, casual tone to her voice. "Ever want to try out for the Olympics?"

"Well, I-" I strutted my words searching my mind for something to say. "It wouldn't be fair?" I eventually came out with, my voice rinding down with each word.

She rolled her eyes at me and looked up and down at my tattered and soaked form. There was a look of deep contemplation on her face as if she was deciding on whether to do something that she might regret in the future.

"Come on then," She told me, walking up the beach, her back turned from me. "My house is only a walk up this way, I'll get you some towels and you can be on your way."

"Thanks," I responded, and honestly kind of confused with this woman's nonchalance. She didn't seem to have any concern for herself, inviting the clearly superhuman guy she had just meet to her house seemed to be a bit foolish, especially with how many of us are kind of violent creatures. "Isn't dangerous to invite strange super fellows to home?"

She turned to look at me from the corner of her eye. There was a clear smirk on her face, I think she liked her chances against me. Which given that I am in a Marvel Universe could be true, she might secretly be this verse's version of Galactus' daughter, though I imagined that her head would have been bigger if that was the case.

"Yeah, well let's just say that I like my chances with you and leave it at that"

I followed behind at a leisurely pace, very little thought was given to what I was doing. The two of just walked along the beach, each leaving oddly heavy imprints along the sand for people of our size.

"Oh," I said realizing something that I should have spoke up about before. "I haven't got your name?"

"Oh," She turned now to face me, but continue walking but now in a backward manner. "I know you though," That wasn't surprising after that fight back in New York, I got to be known nationwide for defeating both War Machine and Vision as I did. "You're the _Blueman_ , right?"

"Not the name that I chose, but yeah, that is me." I sighed putting my hand on my chin, I really should make a real alias known soon.

"That's what you get for not announcing yourself right."

"So your?"

"Oh, you can call me Linda"

* * *

Dmitri entered the drop-off point with a spring in his step, looking like any random guy one would meet on the street. It was a standard place to meet for shadowy people like himself. For people that wanted to make dealings that would be other wise not to be watched. This wasn't the standard time for it, for it was already near midnight. A time when visitors like him were much easier to spot, not many legitimate enterprises did their business at parks, never mind at night. But this was where the coded message had sent Dmitri and the man was in no position to argue with coded messages, no matter how stupid they were being with their location.

He sat on a bench sitting away from the nearby light source, there was no reason to make himself easy to see. There was little movement out here at this time of night, not at a public park after recent events, somehow cops were even more on alert. Properly wanting to have some of that extra media attention on their good _deeds_. That was he heard a noise, Dmitri jumped forward barely dodging a downwards kick that nearly knocked his block off.

"Oh I should have known that the Blueman's known associate would have been able to find me," Dmitri gloated as he quickly turned around to face his attacker, the Black Mask's form being hidden in the darkness of the night but could still be seen by his keen senses. "I would wonder how you found me so quickly but that is something I can beat out of you."

There was a glow to him as he shifted from a regular person to one that had a plain white facemask, it covered his eyes and mouth. It was the kind of mask that caused people to wonder how he was able to breathe in it. Dmitri took in a deep breath, and then he posed himself in a standard boxer stance.

The Vigilante who was known to his friends as Matt, slowly made his way to the man, coming with a left hook that was dodged by his opponent hoping to his left, sending his own hook into Matt's side. He blocked the blow with the side of his arm, twisting around it to send a mighty kick to the back of Dmitri's leg.

The AIM agent crumbled to the ground in a leap that would make a rag proud. Matt punctuated this act with a flip leading a kick to his enemy's head but to his surprise the man swirled around the attack as if he was a break dancer, jumping back to his feet and landing a dropkick to Matt with ease, launching him back towards the park bench.

"I expected this to be harder," The agent told him. "After the defeat of the Titanium Man and Miss Wilton, I thought that a fight between us would be to your advantage, obviously I overestimated your involvement with the feat if I'm givi-" The words were cut off with the rather standard but lighting fast one-two punch that the vigilante followed up with once he leaped to his feet once.

What followed was a backhand from Matt, the response was for Dmitri to catch with his left hand and attempt to throw his fist at Matt's left eye, but instantly he found his blow being smacked hard with the man's left elbow. The blow was so fierce that the AIM agent could feel his hand ring.

A kick from the man's black boot sent Dmitri tumbling back to the ground. Another twirl to Dmitri's feet was countered by the Matt's waiting fist that sent the longtime spy right back to the ground.

"What were you saying?" Matt taunted the man, his position above him sound and sturdy.

"That I overestimated you," The smile on the infiltration specialist was too smug for a man of his position, and that put Matt on guard. This was fortunate because that was when Matt heard the sound of cocking guns. "I really didn't need so many men with me to take you down."

The two were surrounded by over two dozen men. They were all shadowed and wearing some sort of camouflaged gear, Matt presumed that they might also have equipment that silenced their footsteps. Their weapons were more advanced but perhaps not too advance, otherwise, Matt would have not have heard the sound of the guns cocking.

That was when Dmitri was shocked, as a glowing person started to throw around his men as if they were rabbits. She leaped between making impossible kicks in the air that targeted multiple men at the same time. The men were unable to keep a lead on her dizzying movements meant that none could take a safe shot without hitting each other in the process in the process.

Then to end it with the last thug she opened her glowing mouth breath out a steam of flame causing the last man to drop his gun in freight and duck under an oncoming jet of fire. Then the poor man was kicked hard enough to launch into the air and splat down on the ground.

"Not really," Said the sharp feminine voice of Wilton came from the now non-glowing figure. She was now dressed once again in her AIM outfit. "Should have brought better back up."

* * *

There he was dressed up in a fine suit and tie, his greying hair was neat and combed back. In all, United States Secretary of State, Thaddeus 'Thunderbolt' Ross was there giving a speech. It was a press conference. He took to the stand with such a solid stance one would believe that he was about to enter some kind of knock out brawl.

"I would like to start this announcement with the most sincere apologies to the victims in this savage attack," Ross took a deep breath, fixing his tie with a forlorn expression on his face. "This was a tragedy that I am ashamed to say happened under my tender, I want to ensure both the American people and the world, that from this moment forward the Avengers will be given far less control over where they can operate," He took a file from a nearby aid. "The Avengers involved in this mess will be investigated for their actions, and as for the _Blueman_ ," Ross' hardened eyes glared at the screen. "Wherever you at the moment, know that there is nowhere you can hide from us."

"But I have been shown by this Blueman Incident that due to the destruction that enhanced operatives like the Avengers can cause we need to keep a much tighter leash on their action."

There was a silence while the reporters at this speech were writing down notes, and waiting for Ross to begin speaking again. That was when Tony turned off his TV, wheeling himself back towards a work table where he was analyzing the fight footage. He watched it with the help of FRIDAY, who was giving numbers to every feat that the Blueman did, from the Heat Vision melting through the joints of the Hulkbuster suit, to the dents left in Vision's face from the powerful blows. These things and more are all factors that he was attempting to measure in his study of this new superhuman.

"Tony," Pepper's voice caught his attentions swift as his still recovering body could respond to her. "What are you doing up? You're still recovering."

"I'm not," Tony smirked at form the side of his mouth. He pointed down at the wheelchair. "I'm sitting."

Pepper sighed slightly, walking up behind the man, taking the handles of his chair and dragging him out of the room. Tony put little effort into resisting her, still too tired. Pepper looked down at him a soft look on her face.

"Did you watch Ross's press conference?"

"I watched enough of it," Tony replied yawning with his mouth open like a canyon. "He'll have to brief me over the rest of this once I recover."

"Well, thankfully the doctors have said that it won't take more than a month or so of _heavy rest_."

WIth that Pepper took Tony from this workroom and out towards his bedroom. For rest and relaxation.

* * *

Deep within a secret AIM bunker hidden somewhere in the world, Robert da Costa smiled at the info that computer was compiling with each passing moment. Numbers and Letters filled the screen describing a DNA so advanced that science would be thrown forward into the future far ahead of whatever Tony Stark or even Bruce Banner could do. Robert began to laugh, it was a cold laugh that sent chills down the spines of all the people working around him. That was when one spoke up.

"Ehh, sir." They spoke up, their voice akin to a weasel in tone.

"Yes." He responded his voice deeply chilling, the kind of sound that shook the other man visibly.

"The others were telling me that…"

"What were they telling you? Out with it!"

"No understands what any of that means on screen"

There was silence for a few seconds, only the sound of a ticking clock could be heard in the room. Then with a roar of flame, and the shaking of the ground was accompanied with.

"WHAT!"

* * *

 _Author's Note: I have nothing to say, odd._

 _Oh, I got it, I kept the DNA stuff vague because I know nothing about that stuff and was not going to put my foot in my mouth._


End file.
